Before We Fall
by little.acatalepsy
Summary: AU. The war with Voldemort is tearing apart the wizarding world, the Marauders at its center. After Hogwarts, even the strongest bonds of friendship are being questioned. They are careening towards that fateful night. But a single moment changes everything. In the aftermath, they will have to heal, to stand up again, and to hold on to each other. The war has only just begun...
1. To Lie, To Fight, To Choose (Sirius)

Hello readers!

This story starts in canon 1981. It starts to go AU in the third chapter (if you're really curious about when that happens I guess...). The Marauders and Lily are featured equally (with the exception of Peter, but he is still visited from time to time), but it does lean towards Remus-centric.

I appreciate any constructive feedback and reviews you have to offer. Enjoy!

-Cat

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

General Warnings: Violence, angst, and some swear-words. (I'll give more specific warnings if I feel a chapter should merit them)

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Chapter 1

 _To Lie, To Fight, To Choose (Sirius)_

It was nearly midnight and a fog was settling over the streets of London. Cars cut through the lanes, beams glaring drunkenly into the gloom. The drivers squinted in annoyance as the light only succeeded in making the clouds whiter. It was unnatural. Unsettling. Definitely not normal. With uneasy minds and oddly heavy hearts, they hurried home. The bars would only host the lost and despairing tonight.

In one particularly dismal joint, a young man was finishing his fourth drink and considering a fifth. Compared to the other customers, this man stood out. Firstly, he was not stone drunk, having carefully been monitoring his functionality. He was wearing a long black coat that could almost be mistaken for a cloak. He was handsome in a haughty, aloof kind of way. Black hair fell carelessly into his eyes, which were a perfect ocean blue. If it were not for the nearly permanent crease of worry between his eyebrows and the thin anger in his mouth, he would have been approachable. But there were no pretty girls in the bar to flirt with him tonight. Besides, the man had somewhere to be. With a growl and a glance at his watch (which had thirteen hands), he slammed the empty glass on the counter and motioned for his tab. He had barely consumed his usual amount of alcohol, but still visibly struggled to count money onto the counter. Finally, after sorting through a strange array of foreign looking coins and a few unfamiliar sweets, he managed to pay for his drinks and sweep out of the bar.

Once on the street, the man glanced cautiously up and down before disappearing into a dark passage between the bar and another building. It was nearing the middle of September, but a chill had crept into the night, killing the summer's warmth prematurely. He shivered and muttered, "Fucking dementors" as he stomped along the frosty pavement, skirting dumpsters and trash. Finally, he reached his destination: a blank wall. From the depths of his coat/cloak, he removed a thin stick and tapped out a complicated pattern. The bricks began to melt into one another until he stood before a peeling black door with a simple bronze knocker. The man knocked. The door creaked on its hinges and a crack appeared about three centimeters wide.

"Firs' time we met, what did you say?" a gruff voice demanded.

"What a dodgy-looking old codger," said the man with a faint smirk.

"And don't you forget, Black."

"Of course Moody."

The door sung open, revealing a grizzled man with straw-like hair. His face was pitted and scarred, but his eyes were the most lurid part of his appearance. One was black and piercing, and the other was larger, electric-blue, and rolling maddeningly in the socket. Black slipped inside quickly and the door slammed behind them. They walked down a dingy corridor to a low-ceilinged sitting room. The room was filled with shifting bodies and low conversations.

"Padfoot," a voice whispered. "Glad to see you haven't drunk yourself to death."

"Ah, Prongs, and leave you to fend for yourself and your lovely family?" Black grinned as he ruffled the already messy black hair of a young man wearing spectacles.

"I'd still have Moony and Wormy." The man smoothed his hair, but then almost immediately messed it up again.

"Right." Black's grin faded and his face grew tense.

"Sirius," said his friend, his grin also slipping away.

"James," said Sirius with stubborn insistence. "I don't like it either, but you have to admit-"

"Stop," James interrupted. "I don't want to have this discussion again." He frowned and looked across the room. Sirius followed his gaze and saw Peter sitting alone at the table, staring at the wood grain. He was thinner, his cheekbones disturbingly visible in the normally round face. Sirius felt a twinge of guilt. He should be checking in on their friend more often, but with the war, friendship was becoming...difficult. Sirius was constantly on the move, either during his day job as an auror or in the secret hours of the night working for the Order of the Phoenix. There were still moments of that joyful camaraderie, achingly brief and lacking the innocence of their days in Hogwarts. Sirius felt the loss of those days like a physical wound sometimes, thinking of when it was just the four of them against the world. Speaking of four…

He scanned the room full of strained faces again, searching, searching...but Remus' scarred countenance was not among them. The wound soured and Sirius scowled. He leaned over to whisper in James' ear, but at that moment, the fireplace roared green and a tall, elderly wizard entered the meeting-place. Albus Dumbledore had a grave expression on his silver and auburn-bearded face, one that would have been highly unusual in any other circumstance. But the war was wearing on everyone. Conversations sputtered and died while people took their seats.

Sirius and James sat next to Peter, who shifted his seat to give them more room. Other than that, he barely acknowledged them, choosing to resume his study of the weathered table. Now that everyone was gathered in a circle, Sirius could get a better idea of who had made it to the meeting. Next to Moody, Caradoc Dearborn, a senior Auror, sat erect, eyes flicking back and forth. Marlene McKinnon leaned against a wall in the corner, her arms crossed tightly. She was leaning slightly away from the hunched form of Mundungus Fletcher, who looked like he had not bathed in several days. Fabian and Gideon Prewett, their hair like twin flames, were strangely quiet in their seats. Ever mild-faced and stoic, Frank Longbottom was tense at the end of the table, no doubt anxious to return to his wife and son, like James. Emmeline Vance, Edgar Bones, and Dedalus Diggle formed a cluster in the back of the room. Elphias Doge was pale-faced without his usual companion. Sirius grimaced, realizing this was the first order meeting without Benjy Fenwick's comforting smile.

Besides the dead, the only missing members were some employees of Hogwarts (Hagrid and Minerva McGonagall) and Sturgis Podmore and Dorcas Meadows, who were on a mission. And Remus. Who was Merlin knows where. If it were not the first time this happened, Sirius would be worried. But this was now the fourth order meeting in a row that Remus had either shown up late or missed altogether. Hating himself slightly for his train of thought, Sirius tried to banish the word "traitor" from his mind.

"Welcome everyone," Dumbledore greeted them, interrupting Sirius's inner tumult. "I would like to thank Caradoc for graciously welcoming us into his home." Caradoc nodded stiffly. "We have several things to accomplish today, so let's start with any reports from recent missions or surveillance, ending with those stationed at the ministry."

Since no one seemed willing to speak first, Sirius started, clearly his throat loudly and glancing at Marlene. "Five days ago, Marlene and I went west to Reading to investigate reports of Death Eater activity in the area. Initially, it was assumed that the Death Eaters were planning another attack on the muggles. After speaking with some witnesses, we stayed in a muggle inn for two nights without seeing anything unusual. The third night, however, the block we were staying on was attacked by several dementors. After a couple of tries, we managed to repel them… It was close." He may have imagined Marlene's shudder in the corner. _Too close_. "Later, we saw two Death Eaters, one identified as Goyle. They disapparated as soon as they noticed us."

"The attack was on the same block, you say?" Moody questioned.

"Yes. We believe that...that they may have known we were there. Either saw us doing surveillance, or something...else."

"We must not jump to conclusions," Dumbledore said sternly. But everyone had the same echo of the announcement made several weeks ago in their ears. There was a traitor in the order.

"Edgar and I are on the fourth week of our surveillance of Knockturn Alley." Dedalus Diggle's squeaky voice broke the uncomfortable pause. "Besides a few appearances from Lucius Malfoy, no other Death Eaters were sighted. Malfoy went into the apothecary shop twice and made one visit to Borgin and Burkes. We did not question the store owners so as not to arouse suspicion."

"Did you happen to see what Malfoy bought at the apothecary?" asked Dearborn.

"No," Diggle replied apologetically. A ripple of frustration coursed through the room's occupants.

The Prewetts spoke next about a raid in Bracknell, then Frank reported on the progress of Podmore and Meadows in their absence. Sirius felt himself growing more and more exasperated with each report. They were getting nowhere while Voldemort was constantly gaining ground. James began bouncing his knee up and down in a furious rhythm, and Sirius knew he felt the same. Probably even worse, as worry for Lily and Harry consumed him. _Damn that prophecy…_

"...as well as tightening restrictions for giants, vampires, and werewolves."

Sirius looked up. On either side of him, James and Peter copied the motion. It was Dearborn talking now, about affairs of the ministry.

"Werewolves are now required to submit to random summons to the ministry up to twelve times a year to be questioned about their movements during the preceding weeks. There is heavy debate on whether to reclassify from being to beast being thrown around in the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

"That is completely ridiculous," James sputtered, unable to keep quiet.

"Yes, James, it is," Dumbledore agreed. He fixed the three friends with a penetrating stare. "Please allow Mr. Dearborn to finish his report."

Dearborn cleared his throat and continued. "While these new laws are supported by a majority of the ministry, there are some, myself included, that believe that this will isolate this particular community even further. Perhaps even making them more...dangerous."

There was some furtive murmuring among the order members, during which a soft tapping pattern could be heard down the hallway. Edgar Bones disappeared to let the new arrival in.

"It is most unfortunate," Dumbledore began carefully. The accusing susurrations stopped abruptly. "That werewolves are being oppressed to this level because of something they cannot control. It would be unfair of us to join the ministry in this kind of judgment." There was a pause while Dumbledore allowed his words to sink in. A few of the order members looked apologetic, while others gazed at the Headmaster defiantly. Sirius realized that just a few months ago, this would have made him incensed. He felt nauseous. Maybe he'd had more alcohol than he thought.

At that moment, Bones reappeared with (ironically) a very weary-looking, pale, and graying Remus Lupin. No, the nausea was definitely some unholy combination of guilt, betrayal, anger, and overwhelming sadness. The atmosphere in the dimly lit room turned distinctly awkward. Ever intuitive, a faint blush tinted Remus's cheekbones and he quietly slipped along the wall to an unoccupied space. After conjuring a chair and sitting, he closed his eyes and rested his head against the stone. Sirius tried not to think about how the werewolf looked more dead than threatening.

"Please, Caradoc, continue with your report," Dumbledore instructed lightly.

"Yes, thank you Albus. Lucius Malfoy seems to be trying to get the Wizengamot in his back pocket. He has been spotted with several members, offering gifts or fancy dinners. Minister Bagnold continues her efforts to keep Death Eaters out of the Ministry, but refuses to investigate suspicious activity. No signs of the Imperius Curse. However, it is hard to detect and we will continue watching in the meantime."

"Thank you, Caradoc." Dumbledore clapped his hands together and Sirius flashed briefly to the many beginning-of-the-year feasts at Hogwarts. "There are some new assignments for the next week, which you can get from Alastor. One assignment for everyone is to continue searching for new recruits, but do so with great discretion. The next meeting will take place in one week's time, midnight, in the McKinnon Residence. To close, I would like to leave you with a few words." Here Dumbledore folded his hands deliberately on the table. "Voldemort works through division. Draw nearer to each other and learn to trust. When fear drives us apart, then the dark wins. I wish you all a good night."

The Order members began to stir from their places. Remus immediately began making his way towards Sirius, James, and Peter. As Sirius moved to stand, James grasped his arm hard enough to hurt. "Be civil, Padfoot," he hissed. Sirius gave a jerky nod and rolled his eyes, but James had already moved on to Remus.

"Moony, you look terrible," James muttered.

"Thanks," Remus replied with a half-smile. "Not looking too hot, yourself, Prongs. How are Lily and Harry?"

"You wound me. And they are both beautifully perfect, thank you. Tired of being cooped up behind protective spells. And missing you."

Remus ignored the last comment. He turned to Sirius and Peter and gave them a reserved, "Padfoot, Wormtail." Up close, Remus was obviously not in a good place. With a start, Sirius realized he had not seen him since he had moved out of their shared flat two weeks ago. His eyes were bruised with exhaustion and his clothes appeared to hang from his shoulders. They were dirtier and more ragged than ever before. Where was he living now? And there was something else, something new…

"Moony, your face," Sirius said sharply.

"What's wrong with it?"

"You have a new scar. I don't remember that one."

Remus's hand came up to brush a puckered line that followed his jawline. He grimaced. "Yes, it's new."

"It's from the August moon," Sirius accused.

"You should have let us join you, Moony," Peter said in an undertone. His watery eyes were worried. "The September moon isn't far…"

"I'm fine," Remus intoned softly. "And I couldn't. Mission for Dumbledore."

"Right." Remus recoiled at Sirius' tone and James glared at him, but Sirius did not care. Damn Remus and his secrets. There was an awkward silence.

"I'm telling the truth," Remus whispered fiercely, but he kept his gaze on the floor.

"You've lied to us before," Sirius retorted.

Remus's eyes snapped to Sirius', ablaze with indignation and hurt. "Fuck you, Black," he said hoarsely. "You don't get to judge me based on the past unless you want the same treatment.

"Stop it, both of you," James commanded. He stepped between them. Peter was watching, wide-eyed. Sirius was shocked. The mild-mannered werewolf never swore. "You heard Dumbledore, now is the time when we need to trust each other more than ever. Sirius, lay off Remus. Remus, we know you'll tell us about it eventually and we can wait."

Remus shook his head and pushed past James. "Gotta report to Dumbledore," he muttered. James waited until he was across the room, then punched Sirius in the arm, hard.

"Ow!" Sirius yelped.

"That's for being an ass."

"Whatever."

* * *

"I cannot believe you, Sirius Black. I _cannot_ believe you! The nerve to accuse-he's your friend, Padfoot-what in the name of Merlin's-Argh!"

Sirius winced. It had been almost twenty hours since the Order meeting and Sirius had made the mistake of airing his concern in front of the hot-tempered wife of his best mate. James smirked at him from where he sat at the kitchen table. Peter stood against the counter looking supremely uncomfortable. Sirius re-focused on his current attacker, who was viciously preparing a plate of cheerios, black-haired one-year-old on her hip. Harry cooed and clapped as his mother continued her rant.

"Never again do I want to hear you speak those words in my house, or I swear to God, Black, I will never welcome you back. You lived with the man for almost nine years, defended him against every prejudice, went through countless dangers together and now you've decided he's the _informant_?! Because Voldemort offers better to people with his condition?! That's rich coming from you, O Heir of the Noble and Moste Anciente House of Black!"

"Lily-"

"Do _not_ interrupt me, James, or you're next! I cannot believe you! Remus would never-" Sparks flew out of the wand clutched in one of the hands holding Harry. Lily stopped her frantic movements abruptly. Inhaling deeply through her nose, she situated Harry in the high-chair. Then, with newly regained calm, she levitated a sippy cup of milk within arm's reach and grabbed it, setting it before her son.

"This discussion is finished," she said icily. "Remus is on a mission for Dumbledore. He would never sell us to the other side. End of story."

Several possible responses to this jumped into Sirius' head. " _He keeps disappearing and turning down invitations. He has incentive to turn against the ministry and join Voldemort. He does not even want us around for the full moon anymore. Where does he go? Why does he refuse to tell?"_ But Sirius shoved these down. He had already said them to James, who had firmly warned him against using them with Lily. Instead, he huffed and grabbed the plate of cheerios from the counter. Tipping them at two's and three's into Harry's reach, he waited for someone to speak.

"My mother is going on a long holiday to southern France in a week," Peter finally said. "She says it will be safer there with everything going on."

"Probably," James agreed.

"Makes one wish…" Peter's small voice faded. He studied his fingernails, which were raw from being constantly chewed and bitten.

"Wish what?" The question came out harsher than Sirius had intended and Peter flinched.

"I don't know. Wish it could be that easy, you know? To just…"

"Run away?"

"Yeah." Peter shuffled his feet, looking ashamed. And terribly frightened. Sirius could not bring himself to berate him. Neither could James, apparently, because he remained silent and tired-looking in his seat. It was starting to rain. Sirius could hear the drops tapping against the windows and on the roof. The glow of the lamps seemed less warm than before. Harry squawked, "Eeros Pafu!" and Sirius hurriedly provided him with more cheerios.

A soft knock at the door made all four adults jump. James snorted and went out into the hallway leading to the front door. They heard him slide open the peephole.

"Who is it?"

"Moony." The response was muffled by the wood, but audible. Sirius tensed. Lily shot him a warning glance.

"What happened seventh year when Sirius and I were caught by Filch when planting dung bombs in the fourth floor corridor?"

"He took you to his office, had you empty your pockets, and confiscated everything, including the Marauder's Map."

The door opened, squeaking slightly, then the footsteps of Remus and James returned through the hallway. Remus looked better than the previous night. The dark circles around his eyes had lightened enough to make him look more living than corpse-like. He had washed and his gray-streaked hair regained a dulled sheen, despite being dampened by the rain. But any sympathy Sirius may have had for Remus' obvious exhaustion was eclipsed by resentment. Remus' eyes were cast down and his hands were deep in his pockets. His mouth was drawn into a thin line. These were typical signs that their friend (ex-friend?) was preparing to evade the truth.

Lily was the first to greet him. She bumped Sirius pointedly as she crossed the kitchen and pulled Remus into an embrace, murmuring, "It's good to see you."

"Likewise," he replied. He removed a hand from the depths of its concealing pocket to pat her on the back. Peter moved from the wall, his gaze darting uncertainly at Sirius.

"You're thin as a rail, Lupin," Lily scolded. "Please eat something. I have leftover chicken and potatoes from dinner."

Remus accepted graciously, which showed how hungry he really was. As Lily hurried to the refrigerator (a cooling box that muggles use), Remus gave Sirius and Peter perfunctory greetings, which they returned equally half-heartedly.

"Moom," Harry burbled from his high-chair.

"Hello Harry," Remus replied. His smiled reached his eyes for the first time since Sirius had seen him the previous night.

"Where did you stay last night?" James asked as an attempt at normal conversation.

"I found a place." James was smart enough not to push.

"Did your talk with Dumbledore go well?"

"Yes."

"Did he tell you about…"

"Yes. Your letter summed it up nicely, but he explained some of the details. I'm sorry James. And Lily." Remus' tone was genuine. "You and the Longbottoms shouldn't have to shoulder this. He said you're using strong wards and protective charms for now?"

"There's no evidence that Voldemort has come to the same conclusion we have yet. Dumbledore assures us, however, that his spy among the death eaters will inform him if the situation gets...critical." James had had plenty of time to process the prophecy implicating his son, but he was still nervous and jumpy when it was brought up.

"Here you go, Remus," Lily announced, having finished the warming spell on the food. She was not anxious to discuss any danger to Harry.

"Thank you, Lily."

They sat at the table and started a light conversation about quidditch and the first Weasley girl born in three generations while Remus ate. Sirius did his best to join in, as Peter remained uneasily taciturn in his seat. It would be stupidly suspicious if only the Potters spoke. Besides, Sirius suspected that if it was too quiet, the kitchen walls would blurt out the conversation held prior to Remus' arrival.

Eventually, it was time for Harry to go to bed and Lily gently lifted his sleepy form from the high-chair. The stairs creaked as she climbed to the second floor, murmuring softly. The Marauders were left in the kitchen, staring at one another.

"Listen," Remus began. "I know you think-"

"We don't think that," James denied immediately, glaring at Sirius.

"Please don't lie," Remus said.

"Why not?" Sirius snapped. "You seem to have no qualms."

"I can't tell you what I've been doing for Dumbledore, Sirius," Remus said tiredly. It was a refrain Sirius was starting find comical in its flimsiness.

"You don't trust us?"

"I do." Remus' voice was almost a growl. "But I have to do this myself. You've done enough for me as it is."

"Clearly we haven't, or you wouldn't be shunning us."

"Stop!" Remus barked. He sucked in a calming breath. It was raining even harder outside. "I came tonight because I'm leaving tomorrow, early. This mission will be long. Months maybe. You can't contact me. Any letters you send will have to go to Dumbledore. He said he'd find a way. I'm sorry, I-I'm sorry. I swear, I'm doing this for the Order-"

"You're leaving?" Peter whispered, effectively stopping Remus' nervous babble.

"Yes." He almost looked as shocked as the other three Marauders. For once, Sirius could not think of anything to say.

James was wide-eyed. "But...but what about us? And Harry? You're the best at defensive spells…"

"I promise you James. If I did not think that this would aid in the downfall of Voldemort, I would not go."

"We'll miss you Remus." Lily had returned and she was standing in the doorway. Her emerald green eyes were bright. "We know you always do what's best." She went up to Remus and embraced him again, brushing James' shoulder as she went. This time, Remus brought both arms around her.

"I'll be back," he said with a half-grin after they stepped apart.

"Course you will." James stepped forward pounded him on the back.

"Take care, Pete. Watch out for these guys."

"Yeah…"

And then Sirius found himself caught in the guarded copper gaze of the werewolf. He still had not said a word. Remus opened his mouth, closed it, and swallowed. Then, he simply muttered, "Good-bye Padfoot," turned, and disappeared down the dark hallway. They heard the door open, the cascade of rain increased in volume.

"Bye Moony," Sirius mouthed without a sound. There was a click, and Remus Lupin was gone.

It was suddenly too real. The war was dissolving them slowly. It had dragged on for far too long and now they were worlds away from what they had been in school. Heavy muteness fell on the remaining Marauders. It was Lily's calm alto that broke through Sirius' dour thoughts.

"It would be easy, to run away, Peter," Lily murmured. A flash of confusion, then Sirius remembered what they were talking about before Remus' arrival. "But when we can do something about this war, would it be right?"

Sirius could not discern if Remus had run away, or was choosing what was right.


	2. The Keeper and the Sacrifice (James)

Hello again!

First of all, thank you to those of you who reviewed! I'm not going to give any spoilers, but I will tell you that things will get rolling in the next chapter (Saturday?), so stay tuned. I intend for this to be a novel-length fic with a ton of ups and downs for all of the characters. It won't always be happy, but it won't always be sad either. Again, I welcome any constructive criticism you may have. Happy reading!

-Cat

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Chapter 2

The Keeper and the Sacrifice (James)

James leaned against the front door of his house, legs stretched out before him. Their cat, Minnie (jokingly dubbed by Sirius, to the chagrin of one Professor McGonagall), meowed and leaned against him and he stroked her absent-mindedly. Upstairs, he could hear Lily crooning softly to Harry and he allowed himself a smile that had become rarer each day.

Harry had taken his first steps today.

They had been in the kitchen preparing breakfast when he crawled away from his toys to James saying insistently, "Boom, Daddy." James, exhausted from a night of tossing and turning, wearily tried to redirect the energetic one-year-old away from his toy broomstick. Apparently, Harry no longer wanted to play with his stuffed animals. He merely repeated, "Boom. Wan' boom."

"Hold on while Daddy drinks his tea, Harry," James had finally relented. Harry used his pants leg to pull himself to two feet. Standing was the little boy's latest feat, and he was getting stronger. When the tugging on his jeans disappeared James expected the inevitable thump and gurgle of frustration. He certainly had not expected the unsteady padding towards the cupboards, where the toy broom was kept far out of reach.

"Lily!" he had shouted immediately, setting down his tea. He hovered over the determined Harry, hands ready to stop his fall. Lily burst into the kitchen, toothpaste in her mouth. She froze. Harry wobbled a few more steps before toppling sideways into James' waiting arms.

"Way to go little man!" he crowed, swinging Harry high above his head. Harry squawked with baby laughter. Lily spat in the sink and joined Harry's giggles.

"He can walk," she said with the awe of a first-time mother. James could feel the same wonder buzzing through his nerves.

"He wanted his broom." He was grinning so widely, his cheeks hurt. Lily's beautiful emerald eyes rolled and she gave him a minty kiss.

"His father's son. He learned to ride that broom before he could walk."

Now, as he sat against the door with Minnie purring beside him, the memory was like a beacon in his chest. He smiled. His baby was walking.

But life was messy. The joys of fatherhood were intermingled with the complications of life after Hogwarts. From the narrow windows that bordered the entrance to their Godric's Hollow home, two planes of translucent silver slanted to the floor. James did not need to look to know that the October moon was full tonight. He felt a pang of nostalgia. He could almost picture the stag, the wolf, the dog, and the rat romping in the moonlight in the Forbidden Forest. Prongs pulled at his heart and he wondered where Moony was tonight.

It had been twenty-one days since Remus left them. Lily sent a letter a week ago, but they received no reply. If something went wrong Dumbledore would tell them, James was certain. He would let them know. But what if Dumbledore didn't know?

Sirius was more agitated than usual, his mood swings becoming frequent. The contrast of loud outbursts and tight-lipped brooding was actually alarming. His energy had always been frenetic and unpredictable, but this was pushing the limit. He volunteered for countless missions in addition to his still existing auror duties, leaving James sick at home with a mixture of worry and jealousy.

Paperwork and desk administration at the Ministry was so jammed, Peter had to work from early morning until late in the evening. Whenever he managed to make a dinner, he was pale and his watery eyes flickered back and forth nervously. James hated it. Everything. Remus missing, Sirius' erratic behavior, Peter's stuttering, the line of worry on Lily's brow. And all he could do is sit here and wait, confined to his home. He could not go to work in the auror department, he couldn't fly on a broom, he couldn't even attend Order meetings anymore. A part of him his conscience tried to subvert these bitter meanderings. _You're a father and a husband. If you get killed, what good will it be to your wife and child? Harry…_

A gust of wind tossed leaves that skittered across the cobblestones of Godric's Hallow. James listened closely. Were those footsteps? But it was quiet. He sighed and leaned his head against the door.

 _Pop!_

James jumped to his feet, spilling Minnie onto the floor, and peeked outside. A dark figure had just apparated outside the anti-apparation wards and was jogging up the walkway to the door. James stepped back, heart in his throat. There was a pounding then: "It's Sirius, James. Open up!"

"Third year, we broke into the restricted section in the library. Why?"

"That bloody animagus book."

James pulled the door open, allowed Sirius to enter, then shut it with a snap. Sirius shook his hair out of his eyes and James could immediately tell something was wrong. His friend was ghostly pale and looked shaken.

"Who-?"

"The McKinnons," Sirius answered. "And...the Prewetts. Gone. Separate places, same time. McKinnons in their home and the Prewetts were responding to a muggle attack. I was the auror on duty, I got the call to go to the McKinnons. They were all just lying there… then Mad-Eye showed up and told me about the Prewetts. God, Prongs…I just talked to Gideon yesterday about more protection for the Longbottoms. And Lily… she and Marlene were close."

James felt numb, like his intestines had been vanished. First Dorcas and now Marlene...He should have been there. Sirius was still hissing words in an urgent voice.

"...Dumbledore wants to talk to you as well. Something about further protective measures. He's with the Longbottom's now. He'll floo over soon. This is getting far too dangerous, James. How did the Death Eaters-"

Sirius stopped abruptly. Lily's light footsteps were descending the stairs. The light streaming from the upper floor to the dim lower level haloed her hair with fire and James felt a swooping sensation in his gut. But the moment was over quickly. She descended into the shadows that accentuated her tired face.

"Hello, Padfoot," she said. It was a testament to her weariness that there was no tightness in her tone. Lily and Padfoot had not been seeing eye to eye recently. Sirius nodded back and James read his apprehensive glance. He would not be the one to deliver the news. _I have to tell her Marlene is dead._ James sighed, wishing that he could do anything else. He ran a hand through his hair.

"Lils, Sirius came to tell us that there was an attack on the McKinnons. The Prewetts were there. No one made it out." He was ashamed of how emotionless he sounded. Lily's hand jumped to her mouth, the other grasping his arm in a death-grip. Her glance to Sirius confirmed the news.

"Oh God," she whispered. "She was supposed to come here for lunch tomorrow. I hadn't seen her in so long…"

"I'm so sorry Lily," James said. He pulled her into his chest and felt her shuddering breaths. Sirius stared at his feet. They stood like that for what may have been hours, but was probably only several minutes. James wished they could have just stayed there forever. But Lily calmed. Wiping her tears and sniffling, she gazed up towards the nursery.

"Harry took his first steps today," she said to Sirius with a congested voice.

"Did he?" A small smile worked itself onto Sirius' face. "Wow. That's amazing…" James marveled at how little Harry acted as a balm for all of them. What would they do without him?

A whooshing sound from the living room caused everyone to jump.

"Dumbledore's here," Sirius breathed. He stowed away the wand he had whipped out on instinct. Lily looked confused and James quickly explained that they were going into deeper protection. She resignedly dried her damp cheeks and then lead the way into the living room.

Dumbledore seemed to have shrunk since James last saw him. The elderly wizard's shoulders slumped heavily and the wrinkles on his face were like deep crevices. The customary twinkle behind his half-moon glasses was barely existent. They exchanged cursory greetings and then Dumbledore and the Potters sat on the sofas and chairs. Sirius chose to stand by the front-facing window behind Lily and James like a sentry. James could sense his best friend's disquieted glancing outside. Dumbledore graciously thanked Lily for her offer of tea, but explained that he did not intend to impose for long.

"My spy in the Death Eaters spoke with me earlier today, before this evening's tragedy. I was going to wait and come to you tomorrow, but in light of recent events." The Headmaster sighed and leaned forward, piercing James and Lily in turn with his gaze. "Voldemort is becoming convinced of Harry's role in the prophecy. While little Neville Longbottom still remains a possibility, I believe that Harry is in greater danger, mostly because of his blood status, which Voldemort views as lesser than Neville's. I think now is the time to strengthen protection for both of your families."

"The Fidelius Charm," James stated. It was not a question, as it had crossed his mind several times in the last few months. He and Lily even discussed it a week ago.

"Yes," Dumbledore confirmed. "The charm will make it so that no matter how hard Voldemort tries, he will never find you without hearing your location from your Secret Keeper."

"How long?" Lily asked quietly.

"As long as it takes," Dumbledore replied. They understood his meaning. As long as Voldemort still had power, they would be living apart from the world. James inwardly revolted at the idea, feeling suddenly desperate to feel the wind on his face. _Think of Harry. Think of Lily. They are worth more than your freedom. More than your life._ The sick feeling faded, replaced by an ember of determination.

"When will the charm be performed?"

"I think within the next few days. Before Halloween at least," Dumbledore said seriously. He paused. "James and Lily, I know that this decision is ultimately up to you, however, I would still like to offer myself to be your Secret Keeper."

"That means a lot to us, Prof-Albus." James corrected himself. But he new his decision was already made. He looked at Lily, trying to send her a message silently, briefly glancing at Sirius' protective stance behind them. She understood and gave him a small smile. James turned back to the Headmaster. "But I would like Sirius to be our Secret Keeper. I trust him with my life. With my family's lives." James looked at Sirius as he said this, who stared back.

"You are sure?" Dumbledore asked. James and Lily nodded firmly. "And Sirius, do you accept?"

To James' surprise, Sirius did not answer right away. The man's expression was blank, but James knew to look into his stormy blue eyes. Sirius was doing some quick thinking. Finally, Sirius met Dumbledore's gaze and said, "Yes, sir. I would die for them."

"Thank you, Padfoot," James said softly. He smiled at Sirius, feeling a warm glow in his middle. Padfoot gave him a half smile, but it slipped away quickly. He appeared to be mentally wrestling with something.

"Then it is settled." Dumbledore stood, his long robes sweeping the floor. "We will set a time to perform the charm, preferably in the next few days. Sirius, we will need the address of James and Lily's house written by your hand on a piece of parchment, as well as a few extras to show specific members of the order. I will perform the spell myself."

"You have done so much for us, Albus," Lily said tremulously. "We are indebted to you."

"It is not a burden to care for my friends, Lily," Dumbledore conveyed. The crow's feet around his eyes lightened. "Now I must return to Hogwarts. I hate to be away from my students for too long, especially in these dark times."

He stepped towards the fireplace and removed a small pot of floo powder from deep within his robes. Just as he was about to toss a handful into the orange cinders, Lily stepped forward.

"Albus," she said hastily. "I sent a letter to Remus through you and I was wondering if there was any reply."

"Ah, yes, it is good you asked," the Headmaster said with a soft smile. "He was overjoyed to hear from you, my dear. I believe he is quite lonely where he is." James felt a twinge of guilt. _I should have written Moony._ "He could not write a response, but he told me to inform you that he is well and not to worry, even though he knows you'll worry anyway."

Sirius moved around the couch. "You can't tell us where he is?" he challenged. Lily hit him on the arm, but he ignored her, eyes boring into Dumbledore.

"For Remus' safety and the integrity of the mission, it must remain a secret," Dumbledore replied calmly.

"Will you tell him what's going on?" Lily asked. "He'd want to know."

"Of course."

Dumbledore disappeared in a swirl of green flames. Lily turned on Sirius, daring him to disagree, but Sirius was completely focused on James. James immediately recognized the signs of Sirius having a plan and bursting to explain. The intensity of his gaze was starting to make him nervous. James raised his eyebrows at him.

"I have an idea," Sirius began. Lily huffed, so he continued hurriedly before she could cut him off. "I'm beyond honored to be your Secret Keeper, Prongs. You're my brother and I'd do anything to protect you and Lily and my godson. But everyone in the wizarding world knows that. I'm too obvious."

"What?" James was confused. What was Sirius trying to say?

"Don't you see, Prongs? I'm the obvious choice. Voldemort will know that you are going under the Fidelius Charm. The first thing he'll do is look for the Secret Keeper, me."

"But how would he know-" Lily started.

"There's. A. Spy. In. The. Order." Sirius's jaw was tight with stubbornness. His shoulders were set firmly. "Voldemort will know and when he does he'll go after me right away. I'm not saying I'm afraid of that bastard. I'd never give you up James."

"Then what do you want to do?" James asked.

"Let him chase me." His steely eyes glittered. "In fact, I'll lead him on a wild goose chase across Europe. Just like when we used to get away with pranks in school. One of us would redirect the teachers' attention, the rest would be planting dungbombs under the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. We'll tell everyone I'm the Secret Keeper, but the whole time, you will have a different one. A secret Secret Keeper."

Then James understood. Sirius would be a distraction, a ruse. No one would question that he was the man the Potters trusted most. As he had already said, the obvious choice.

"He'll kill you if he finds you," James said numbly. "And it won't be quick. He'll torture you, Sirius. You need to be in hiding, not prancing around like an idiot."

"I don't prance, Prongsie, I romp. I'll be careful." Sirius waved his arm airily. He could barely keep still, moving from foot to foot to siphon away manic energy. James struggled to keep himself from getting caught up in Sirius' excitement. It was dangerously easy to be swept away by his energy, James knew from experience.

"Sirius, this is ridiculous," Lily pleaded. She had always been uneffected. "Who would we even choose? Remus?"

"No," Sirius said immediately. "Peter. He's an excellent liar, first of all. You should have heard the excuses he came up with to tell McGonagall. And he's not the best at spells and fighting, no offense to him. A Secret Keeper should be strong, unbreakable. No one would ever guess."

Lily rolled her eyes, but James paused. Sirius was making some really good points. He would trust any of them, Sirius, Peter, …Remus. He shook his head to clear it. _Stop it. Sirius is rubbing off on you in a bad way. Remus is one of your best friends. You trust him._

"What about the handwritten note?" Lily asked, clearly trying to dissuade Sirius.

"Peter's an amazing artist," Sirius said, clearly pleased that he had thought this part through. "You should see the sketchbooks he kept in school. Mimicking my handwriting will be child's play for him. Dumbledore won't notice."

"We're not telling Dumbledore?" James interrupted, surprised. Sirius was suddenly still. His grin slid away, leaving his friend unnaturally grave.

"We're not telling anyone. No one can know but us and Peter. No, Lily, we're not telling Remus."

"He's not the spy," she hissed through gritted teeth. "Besides, he's been gone for over a month. Dorcas, Marlene, the Prewetts-their positions were compromised recently. It couldn't have been him!"

"Dumbledore's been keeping him updated," Sirius argued. Lily threw up her hands in frustration and glared at James. _Reason with him,_ her look demanded.

"Sirius-" James began.

"Please, James." Suddenly Sirius was begging. The switch from adamant reasoning to imploring was unsettling enough that James listened. "We can't tell Remus. Look, I know the two of you aren't convinced. You think I wanted this?" He ran a hand through his black curls. For the first time, James saw behind the layers of Padfoot's anger. There was grief from losing a friend, far below the surface. "It hurts. I know you want to trust him James, but you can't ignore the facts. And you never lived with him. You never had to deal with his avoidances those first few months he started drifting away. It was like first year all over again, but...worse. If there is the slightest chance I'm right… Can we just… let him believe I'm the Secret Keeper?"

James bit his lip. The doubts welled up again. Dorcas Meadows was killed last week in an ambush, her body dumped on her father's doorstep. The McKinnons and the Prewetts today. He thought of Harry, sound asleep upstairs, so innocent and perfect and learning to walk.

"Okay," he whispered. Sirius's shoulders relaxed.

"James," Lily murmured. "Don't you know how this will hurt him?"

"Yes." James pushed away the shame. In war, sacrifices had to be made. Family came first. _Moony is your family_. He closed his eyes tightly. _Think of Harry_ … "Let's contact Peter first thing tomorrow."


	3. The Wolf of the Roaring Wind (Remus)

And...Chapter 3. I'm posting this a day earlier than I said I would because I got slammed with things to do this weekend and probably won't have time later.

* * *

Chapter 3

 _The Wolf of the Roaring Wind (Remus)_

In the moorish wilderness outside of Inverey, Scotland, there was a large stone barn, accompanied by a cottage. Both were in ruins and swept by the biting winds of twilight. The moon would not rise for two more hours, a waning gibbous that would stare down on the abandoned settlement in a naked glare. Against the inner stone walls of the barn, a pack of ragged men huddled under flimsy canvas tents. They spoke in bitter growls, nursing healing wounds and cursing the outside world. Only one was quiet. He had removed himself from the rest and was cached miserably against the outer wall. He was thoroughly exposed to the elements, wrapped in a heavy cloak. But this was a matter he would deal with in secret, despite any discomfort.

Cautiously checking for anyone watching, he pulled out a thin stick of wood and muttered a spell. The wind instantly died in a small sphere of protection surrounding him. His thin brown and gray hair settled and he wiped it out of his eyes. Teeth chattering, he did one more check before performing a second, more complicated spell. An envelope appeared before him. He snatched it out of the air and broke the seal.

 _October 30, 1981_

 _Dear Remus,_

 _I hope this letter finds you well. Vanish it once you are finished reading it._

 _Caradoc Dearborn has still not been found since he disappeared last week. I'm informing the Order in a meeting tonight._

 _There have been several developments of which you should be aware. Firstly, I'm sorry if you heard this news in some other way. I wish I could tell you in person, but this written word will have to suffice for today. The Prewett brothers and the McKinnons all perished in a Death Eater attack four days ago. I did not want to tell you before your full moon transformation, which is why I have waited until now. The second reason I waited is my next piece of news._

 _Voldemort is closing in on Lily and James, putting little Harry in grave danger. This morning, I performed the Fidelius charm on the Potters' home in Godric's Hollow. Sirius Black is their Secret Keeper. Enclosed is one of the handwritten notes he prepared with the address so that you can go and visit when the time comes. They are safe, so no need to worry. Lily was pleased that you received her letter._

 _As for the details you provided on Greyback's pack: I'm surprised to hear of the Death Eaters' visits. It appears that Greyback is more involved in Voldemort's plans than we originally thought. Your mission may prove to be more beneficial as a consequence. Be careful, Remus. I know you know this, but Greyback is not easily fooled. He may have allowed you to stay, but he will be watching you closely._

 _No need to respond to this letter. I am well and my thoughts are with you._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Albus Dumbledore_

Remus coughed wetly, then read the letter through again, memorizing the important lines. The Prewetts and the McKinnons were dead, probably Caradoc as well. A lump welled in his throat. Breathing deeply, he pushed the news far back into the recesses of his mind. He would have to deal with it after his mission. He paused at Sirius' name, feeling uneasy. Sirius was the Secret Keeper, then. He shivered, both from the cold damp and from nerves. With trembling fingers he removed a small slip from the envelope.

 _The Potter Family can be found at Number 7, Founders Lane, Godric's Hollow._

It was written in the carelessly elegant scrawl of Sirius Black. Remus studied the hesitation marks on the upper-case letters. Was Sirius apprehensive about sending Remus the address? _Stop it, Moony. What Sirius and the rest of the Order think doesn't matter. What matters is that you do your job right and Voldemort is taken down._

Remus spent a few moments thinking about the address. Then, he burned the slip of paper along with the letter and vanished the ashes. With a wave of his wand, the wind-shielding bubble disappeared and the gale blasted him against the barn wall. Standing with difficulty, the werewolf limped back inside, praying that no one noticed his brief absence. This mission had been grown from long periods of solitude, subhuman conditions, failure, and humiliation. He'd spent the majority of the early summer months traveling through werewolf communities, struggling to convince his kind to at least remain neutral in the war. It was July when Dumbledore asked him if he was willing to do this mission in Greyback's pack. After some consideration, Remus relented and changed tactics. The rest of the summer was spent building a new reputation and finding werewolves who knew of the feral pack's whereabouts. Joining them was even harder. Greyback was slow to trust, despite gloating over Remus' submission. His current position in the pack was fragile. He could not afford to lose it now.

He meandered towards a small lean-to against the east wall. Unwillingly, he began to shed what made him Remus Lupin. He let the limp become more pronounced and loosened his spine, his posture sagging. He was not a wizard. He was an outcast from society, alienated and scorned. When his wand was stowed carefully into the hidden lining of his jacket, he entered his tent that he shared with two other werewolves.

"Where you been?" grunted Declan. He was older than Remus, around forty, and balding. An ugly ropey scar marred the left side of his face. The eye had been gouged out and the eyelid torn in a way that Remus could see the unsettling red emptiness behind it.

"Taking a leak," Remus responded hoarsely. It had been a while since he last spoke.

"Ever the proper one, Lupin. Mindin' privacy and everything," Declan growled. Despite his gruffness, Declan was Remus' closest associate in the pack. Before being bitten at age twenty-seven, the man had worked for the Ministry's Department of Magical Transportation. He still kept a faded picture of his wife and son, whom he had left the month after being bitten to keep them safe from himself. Of all the werewolves in the pack, Remus believed Declan would be the most likely to turn his back on Greyback's methods and allegiance.

"Like to believe I've still got some humanity left," Remus said after some thought.

The other werewolf in the tent snorted. Julian was wiry and misshapen from broken bones healed incorrectly. Julian was closer in age to Remus, about twenty-six, and bitten only three years ago. He opened his mouth only to make derisive comments, usually about Remus, and to praise Greyback for his gory revenge against society. Otherwise, his face remained in a permanent sneer.

"Why the hell are ye even here if you believe that there's humanity left in this bloody world?" Julian snapped. Remus could not think of a response.

"Let 'im believe it," Declan groaned, laying back on his pallet of dirty rags and wet straw. "At least someone here still tries to."

"Greyback wouldn't be pleased to learn 'is prized possession is some fucking idealist." Julian curled in on himself, biting at a loose nail.

Remus's insides squirmed at being called a possession of the feral wolf. Swallowing, he ignored Julian and went to his own pallet, wishing that he had something to eat besides the weak broth he'd consumed hours ago. He wrapped himself tightly in his cloak and ragged blanket and lay on his side to wait. Most of his job as a spy required patience and listening. To stay awake he tried listing all the spells he knew and coming up with ways they could be used for defense. Snores filled the tent when he reached third year transfiguration. Time to move.

Julian and Declan were both heavy sleepers, but Remus still stood as quietly as possible. He silently charmed his blanket to rise and fall as if he were sleeping underneath. Years of sneaking through Hogwarts castle undetected lent him a few skills as he skirted out of the tent and into the barn interior. The moon had risen now, sending silvery beams through the broken slats of the roof. Casting a disillusionment charm on himself, he picked his way through the lean-tos and tangled abodes of the pack. Soft breathing, grunts, and muttered conversations emanated from behind canvas, tarp, and wood. This was the only time Remus was grateful for the stench of the place, as it covered his passage thoroughly. Silently, he slipped outside and darted through shadows to the cottage across the yard. A light glowed in a broken window. Remus settled himself underneath, ignoring the painful rocks and stiff stalks of grass that gouged through his thin clothing.

The visits that Remus risked to Greyback's cabin were rarely rewarded. He continued them all the same. Occasionally, a Death Eater would visit and Remus would catch snatches of plans to send to Dumbledore. So far, he had gone undetected by the alpha wolf, but he still prayed his luck held out tonight.

It seemed Greyback was with his beta, Ceres. They were conversing roughly about an upcoming plan for the whole pack to invade a muggle village at the next full moon. Remus felt nauseous, but he had heard this plan before. He had a few ways to avoid participating already worked out. He allowed himself to doze lightly, still on alert for any sign that Greyback would come outside or the subject would shift to something different.

 _Crack!_

Remus started awake and immediately started scanning the stretch of moor around him. Someone had apparated nearby. There. A figure in a black hood was making its way to the front door of the cabin. Heart in his throat, Remus remained absolutely motionless, willing himself not to breath. As the figure approached, it resolved into Lucius Malfoy. Cold, pointed features were fixed on the cabin, missing the disillusioned werewolf completely. Without checking his surroundings or bothering to knock, he entered the cottage. Remus let out the air he had been holding in a rush and leaned his head back on the stones, closing his eyes, closing off any other sense besides hearing.

"...Did not expect you here tonight, Malfoy." The guttural growls of Greyback drifted through the window.

"Yes, well there has been a change. The Dark Lord will require your presence within the week." Malfoy's smooth tones failed to hide his disgust at being in the abode of the werewolves.

"The Dark Lord requires our presence," Greyback repeated in a low hiss. "And why does he turn to the werewolves at this time?"

"I do not presume to know the Dark Lord's mind. But I believe he desires to spread terror, make the wizarding world submit out of fear." Malfoy paused. "He will reward you of course. Handsomely."

"And yet he gains no favor in the wizarding world. How likely is it that werewolves will gain a place of power when the Dark Lord himself is unable to maintain the respect of the Ministry of Magic?" Remus raised his eyebrows. That Greyback did not fully trust Voldemort to keep his word was news to him.

"How dare you insinuate weakness in our master? You know nothing of his progress. He is close. Closer still after tomorrow."

"And what is happening tomorrow?" Ceres interrupted. Disdain colored his voice. "Another pointless muggle raid?"

"Such lack of faith in your leader, Ceres," Malfoy said softly. "The events to come are none of your concern. Only the result. The Dark Lord will destroy the last obstacle between him and power over the wizarding world tomorrow."

Silence filled the cottage, as if Greyback were thinking. "I would like to speak with the Dark Lord myself, Malfoy."

"That is not your decision." There was the thudding of boots crossing the floor and the door opened. Remus froze a second time. The volume of Lucius' arrogant voice increased. "I would start packing if I were you. You'll be able to leave this hovel shortly."

Malfoy swept away into the night, then disappeared with a _pop_. Ceres called him something that would have made even Sirius blush, but Greyback ignored him. The door snapped shut, leaving Remus in the dark, sucking in a long breath. What on earth did that mean, the Dark Lord will destroy the last obstacle? Remus pushed away from the house and spelled away his scent as he snuck back to the barn.

The wakeful sounds had died completely inside, replaced by the even breaths and snores of sleep. Remus guessed that it was nearly three in the morning. _The Dark Lord requires the presence of the werewolves... The last obstacle between him and power over the wizarding world._ He should sleep. Fatigue and near-starvation muddled his thoughts, blended them. Remus hardly noticed when he reached his tent, his body going through the routine of checking that his tent-mates were sound asleep. Then he collapsed on his pallet and blackness filled his mind.

* * *

Remus' dreams were strange and confused. Sirius would accuse him of being a Death Eater, then turn and invite Voldemort to waltz with him while James and Peter played acoustic guitars. Then a small boy appeared. He had messy black hair, taped glasses, and green eyes that were the only color Remus could see. A strong, moor wind blew and lifted the boy's bangs, revealing a cut like lightning. The cut bled and red lines ran down the boy's nose, but James and Peter and the dancing pair ignored him. Remus tried to run to the boy, but he tripped over something and fell flat. Remus rolled over and looked. He let out a strangled yell. Lily Potter's empty green eyes stared back at him. She was dead.

There was a sharp pain in Remus' side. He startled, tangled in a cloak and blankets.

"Shut the bloody hell up, Lupin."

Remus was staring up at a crooked, vaguely humanoid form. Julian. His face was contorted in an ugly snarl.

"Sorry," Remus muttered. His mind was already shredding up the memories of the dream in favor of reality. He looked at Declan questioningly.

"Yellin' in your sleep," Declan said.

"Oh," Remus replied stupidly.

"'Bout time you woke. S'nearly noon. You'll miss the midday meal."

Remus pushed himself up on his elbows, feeling as though he had run several miles instead of slept. All he wanted was to lay back down, but the threat of missing the chance to eat was too great. He needed his strength.

The werewolf pack only ate what Greyback's scouts brought back to the farmstead, which was never enough. They were allotted the same amounts, which they were given just inside the south door. It was not until Remus had settled apart from the other werewolves with a meager helping of canned beans that he remembered the details of Malfoy's visit.

" _The Dark Lord will destroy the last obstacle between him and power over the wizarding world tomorrow."_ What was the last obstacle? Remus scanned his foggy brain, looking for related memories. Suddenly, words from Dumbledore's letter stood out in his mind: _Voldemort is closing in on Lily and James, putting little Harry in grave danger._ Harry. Harry was the little boy in his dream. Remus squeezed his eyes shut trying to think. Harry was in danger because of the prophecy. Lily and James never told Remus exactly what the prophecy said, only that there was one and it could be about their son and Voldemort. Harry couldn't be the obstacle Malfoy was talking about, he was just a baby... _Could he?_

"Lupin!" A sharp bark broke through his thoughts. Greyback was standing in front of him, teeth bared in a mocking grin. Remus averted his eyes. _Pull yourself together, Moony. You have a job to do._

"Greyback," he said stiffly.

"Lost in your thoughts?"

"Yes."

"I called you over to the pack twice." There was a hint of a threat in the low rumble. Remus glanced over to see the other werewolves watching with narrowed eyes. "Care to share what's so important?"

Remus shook his head. Greyback grabbed his shirt and hauled him upright, spilling the uneaten bites of Remus' lunch to the dirt floor. Sharpened nails punctured his skin. Greyback's putrid breath stole the oxygen from the air. _Just act submissive,_ he told himself desperately.

"I expect better of you," the older werewolf purred in his ear.

"Yes," Remus whispered.

"Don't do it again."

Greyback pushed him forcefully to the rest of the pack. Remus realized his legs were shaking and sat down quickly next to Declan, cursing himself. Angering Greyback (or drawing any attention to himself at all) was a mistake he could not afford right now. Declan pointedly avoided looking at Remus. Remus could not blame him.

In front of the werewolves, Greyback and Ceres were standing. Since the full moon five days ago, they had yet to hear any gruesome reports from their alpha. This was unusual, but Remus had the feeling they would be treated to the tales now. Glad that he had chosen to spend the night in an abandoned forest elsewhere, Remus disgustedly listened for anything useful. Nothing was.

When Greyback repeated the news Malfoy brought last night, Remus fell back into his worried meanderings. Harry. Should he contact Dumbledore? But Dumbledore said that the Potters were safe for now. Their protection was increased. The Fidelius charm would hold and Voldemort would not be able to find them. But would the charm hold?

Remus thought back to the hesitation marks in Sirius' note. Maybe Sirius was not concerned about Remus being the traitor. But…No, Sirius would never betray James. They were inseparable. An uneasy feeling trickled into Remus' gut. Why would Voldemort be so confident in his victory that he inform even the lowest of his followers? Had he been assured that the Fidelius charm would break? Only the Secret Keeper could promise that.

Adrenaline was flooding his limbs and his breathing quickened. If any part of his speculations were correct, he would need to act on his information soon. Was there time to write Dumbledore? ...No. Remus would have to do this himself, abandon the pack. Declan sat beside him, oblivious to his internal battle. Greyback was still speaking. Remus weighed the importance of his mission against the possibility of Voldemort attacking the Potters. The months of painful preparation loomed heavily over him. He was gleaning information critical to the order. But his friends…

His friends. If someone had told him at eleven years old what Sirius, James, and Peter would do for him, he would have scoffed in disbelief. And Lily, unwavering in her trust. He had not been very good to them since graduating Hogwarts. Some part of him agreed with Sirius, that he'd abandoned them to the storm of a war with no end in sight. He was shocked to feel something hard blocking his throat. Emotions that he had stamped down for his mission were rising dangerously close to the surface along with a memory. " _We'll always be here for you, Moony."_ It was something Sirius had said, long ago in seventh year, back when what worried Remus were little things like jobs. Not loss and death and fear of discovery. Simple and potent, those words never left Remus.

He scanned the dirty pack of werewolves.

"The Dark Lord has summoned us for a hunt this week," Greyback was saying. The werewolves were shifting with excited energy. "He promises to make it worth our time."

His decision was made.

It was nearly sunset when Remus Lupin was able to sneak away from Inverey. His fear for his friends had heightened to a nearly unbearable level. _Please don't be too late_. With a small pop, he disapparated. The sound was lost in the moor wind, but reverberated across the invisible tangle of fates with a roar of thunder.


	4. Let There Be Tomorrows (Lily)

Hello All!

Here's Ch 4! It's a little shorter than the first three, but lot's of content. I reposted Ch 3 because there was a slight grammatical error that was driving me crazy (kudos if you saw it). Read and Review!

-Cat

Also, I suppose now's a good time for a Disclaimer: I don't own any stories or characters belonging to J.K. Rowling.

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Chapter 4

 _Let There Be Tomorrows (Lily)_

Lily was laughing like she had not in almost months. Her husband glared at her from the floor, but the corner of his mouth twitched. Little Harry giggled along with his mother, delighted with the destruction he had caused in their living room. Books littered the floor, as well as the shattered remains of the Halloween candy bowl that had been on the coffee table. Minnie was on the mantle, fluffy-tailed and hissing. And of course, James Potter, who had tripped over the mess in pursuit of his remarkable skilled future Quidditch player.

"We need to start screening Padfoot's gifts to him, Lils," James grouched.

"I thought you liked the broom," she chuckled.

"Right. No more candy before bed then."

"That was your idea."

"Not my brightest moment." Harry zoomed around the house again and a crash was heard from the kitchen. James winced. Lily stifled another laugh. After a moment, James joined her.

"True Marauder, that kid," he snorted. "His first Halloween masterpiece."

"Masterpiece?" Lily teased. "As I recall your Halloween pranks were more like a sticky wreckage of smashed pumpkins."

"Artful wreckage," James corrected, a mischievous grin splitting his handsome face. Lily rolled her eyes fondly. Once upon a time, she found that grin irritating beyond belief, but now it was almost dear. Harry came zooming back into the living room on his toy broom. With the unerring skills of a chaser, James plucked him from the air and spun him around. Harry whooped and spread out his chubby hands. Lily felt a warm glow in her chest.

"We should have another one," James said suddenly. Lily's heart mimicked Harry sailing up and down in the air. Hope and then crashing reality. She did not realize she had gone quiet until James said, "Lily?"

"We should," she murmured with a small smile. A tug of longing pulled at her.

"What's wrong?" He swung Harry around again, but Lily saw the flash of insecurity. All the fears that had plagued her since Dumbledore told her Harry was in danger welled up. He paused. "Do you...want another?"

"Yes, yes I do," she said. The desire was so strong, the next words were hard to say. "But James, bringing a child into the world now…"

"We worried about the same thing when you were pregnant with Harry."

"We weren't in hiding then."

James balanced Harry on his hip and adjusted his glasses. "I hate war. And logic. I especially hate logic."

"I know," she said.

"After." It was firm. Determined. "We'll have another one after."

"After," she agreed. She balanced on her tiptoes and kissed him, then Harry.

 _Crack!_

The moment shattered. James pulled Harry protectively close and grabbed Lily's arm, dragging her away from the windows. Without a sound, he passed Harry to her and whipped out his wand. He walked swiftly to the front entryway and peered outside. Heart in her mouth, Lily moved so that she could see the footpath to their door. A cloaked figure was limping swiftly through the front garden. _We're protected by the Fidelius Charm_ , she thought furiously to herself. _Peter wouldn't tell someone who was an enemy._

 _Tap, tap, tap!_

James hesitated to answer. He glanced back at Lily and Harry and motioned for them to get out of sight. Lily obliged, putting her back against the wall and hushing Harry.

"Prongs, it's Moony. Open up!" said a hoarse voice.

"Moony?" James said in surprise.

"Fourth year I wrote your Summoning Charms essay for you because you were in the hospital wing after a fight with some Slytherins." The voice said in a rush. "I made you swear not to tell Sirius or Peter."

Lily heard the door squeak on its hinges as James opened it. She stepped around the corner, holding Harry close. Remus Lupin strode inside and closed the door with a snap. He removed his hood, scanning her and James with something like relief. Lily frowned at his appearance. Their friend had clearly not been eating well. Dirt smudged his hollow cheeks and the cloak was filled with holes. He was holding himself gingerly, like there was something wrong with one of his legs. Lily felt a surge of anger at the Headmaster. What kind of mission had he assigned Remus? But the werewolf seemed completely unaware of his current state. His eyes flicked over to the apparent carnage in the living room.

"What happened?" he asked sharply.

"Harry, sugar, and a toy broom," James explained. Remus relaxed, but only slightly. Lily was reminded of Alastor Moody, if he were out in the open with no cover.

"Am I the only one who's been here tonight?"

"I'm doing well thanks, Moony," James said sarcastically, ignoring the question. "And yourself? Haven't seen you in some time. I'm must say you don't look too good."

Remus sighed. "Sorry," he apologized. But instead of offering an explanation for his sudden presence, he went to the window and looked out. He was shaking.

"Remus, what's wrong?" Lily asked. Remus appeared not to have heard her. Harry quietly babbled to himself, drawing Remus' attention away from the outdoors. He studied Harry, features tight, agitation palpable.

"Don't know," he finally replied curtly.

"Remus…" James said slowly. He glanced at Lily, clearly searching for something to say to calm their friend. Remus ignored James and returned his gaze to the window.

He froze.

"You need to leave. Now."

"What?" James sputtered. Remus spun around, eyes wild.

"Get out. Take Harry and go! Back door, go past the apparation wards and leave."

Remus darted back to the entryway, pulling his wand from his cloak pocket. James followed, demanding, "What the hell, Remus?"

"He's here."

Time stopped. _No, no, no, he couldn't be here. They were supposed to be safe!_ Heart pounding, Lily looked out. A tall figure in black was on the street. He was like a statue, menacingly still while a breeze blew at his cloak. A child in a costume approached him, but quickly scurried away in terror. The figure stared after him, calculating, but eventually looked back at the house. He glided forward like a specter. A pale white hand landed on the gate latch. All the air seemed to vanish from the house. _He can't come in, he can't come in_... and Voldemort passed the boundary of the Fidelius Charm. Harry started to whimper.

"Oh my god," Lily whispered.

"It's him," James said aghast. He faced Lily, all color gone. "Lily, go!"

She retreated towards the back door, clutching Harry to her chest, but stopped. Her husband had not moved.

"James go with her," Remus ordered.

"No, I'm staying with you."

"Protect your family, Prongs." Lily had never heard Remus sound so commanding. He was standing straight, composed, between James and the front door. "There could be more." James shook his head, but Lily could see his resolve quaver. He stepped back towards her, eyes locked on his friend.

"He'll kill you."

"I can hold him long enough," Remus said quietly. James still hesitated.

"James-" Lily began. Any second, Voldemort could burst through the door.

"It wasn't Sirius," James said suddenly. "The Secret Keeper. It was Peter."

"Okay. Get out." Remus' voice was flat with desperation.

"Remus…"

"We'll talk later, James."

James' hand tightened on his wand and Lily guessed the thought that flitted through his mind. _Please don't lie_. But the words did not leave his lips.

"Lily..." Remus' eyes connected with hers. _Time to go._

Lily understood. She grabbed James' arm and pulled him backwards. Remus turned away and James finally relented. As she burst through the back door with her husband and son, there was a ripping explosion, followed by the cracks of flying spells. _Don't look back_. Harry was now crying in earnest, clinging to her neck. They raced through the yard. James seemed to have come to his senses. He wrapped himself around them and propelled them forward, his body a shield.

"Reducto!" he shouted. The border fence exploded. Once they passed the gap, James gripped her hand and turned.

The world swirled into lengthening colors, her lungs were squeezed mercilessly, all of her thoughts focused on Harry, whose grip was rigid…

Then stars popped into existence above them. Lily stumbled, but James caught her. Harry was crying again, hiccuping sobs of shock. He'd never apparated before. They were standing at the end of a street crammed with shops. It was shockingly silent after the crackling of spells. On the building in front of them, a sign shaped like a decapitated boar's head was was swinging in the breeze. The Hog's Head.

"Hogsmeade?"

"Dumbledore," James replied.

Arm tight around her shoulders, he guided them inside, shouting, "Aberforth!" A pounding upstairs, then Aberforth Dumbledore appeared in the main lobby of the empty bar. The irritated expression dissolved into confusion when he saw them.

"What-"

"We need to talk to your brother, now."

Aberforth closed his mouth and nodded. He seemed to understand the urgency immediately. In two long strides, he crossed to the fireplace and took a small pot from the mantle. The portrait of the young girl above the fire watched, concerned, as he offered them the floo powder.

"My fireplace is connected to Albus' office," he explained. "As long as I say the password, you can enter unhindered." The tall man turned to the large hearth and said clearly: "Phoenix tears." A fire roared to life. James threw in the powder and disappeared into the emerald flames.

"Thank you," Lily murmured, before following her husband with Harry.

The soft ticking and whirring of the instruments on the shelves and tables filled Dumbledore's office. Harry had calmed and stared around with big, wet eyes. The portraits of past Headmasters and Headmistresses whispered to each other and pointed. James was speaking to one of the portraits' occupant, who disappeared into the side of the frame, presumably to retrieve the Headmaster. Then, he knit his brow in concentration before enunciating softly, "Expecto Patronum." A silvery stag spilled from the tip of the wand and flew out into the night like a comet.

"Sirius," James said in explanation. Lily nodded, bouncing Harry gently. She watched James carefully, who began to pace frantically. His whole body was trembling. Lily realized that hers was as well. Her knees felt weak, but she locked them stubbornly. Now was not a good time to break down. James and Harry needed her.

The doorknob turned and Albus Dumbledore swept into the room, expression stormy. Indigo robes fanned out around him, making him more intimidating. Behind him was Professor McGonagall in green, her mouth thin. The portrait must have told them who was there, because there was no surprise on either face. Neither was there any twinkle behind Dumbledore's glasses.

"What happened?" he inquired.

"Voldemort," James replied breathlessly. "The Fidelius Charm broke. Not Sirius. Peter. Remus was there, he's still there. He said he could hold him off, but-"

Dumbledore held up a wizened hand, signalling he understood. "Minerva, if you could take care of the Potters, I will return soon."

With a grim expression, Dumbledore was gone in a swirl of robes. McGonagall conjured chairs and gestured that they should sit. Lily sank down gratefully, but James resumed his pacing. Quietly, Lily told McGonagall about the events of the evening. As she finished, the transfiguration professor's lips were nearly non-existent and her face was bone-white. Lily remembered the fondness she harbored for the bookish werewolf.

"And Sirius?" the older woman asked.

"He wasn't our Secret Keeper," Lily replied, numb. "Peter. Peter betrayed us." James made a jerky movement out of the corner of her eye, but continued pacing. It was the first time she had said it out loud. She thought of the shy, awkward, but kind-hearted Marauder. _Oh, Peter, what have you done?_

They fell into silence, waiting. At some point, James sat and stared at the opposite wall, jaw clenched. He bounced his knee up and down, unable to remain completely still as the minutes ticked by with no news. A house elf appeared with tea and biscuits, but these sat untouched on the tray. Harry's eyes drifted shut. A thousand scenarios chased themselves around her head, but she kept returning to one gut-wrenching thought. _If Remus dies_ … Lily could not comprehend what would follow. _It will be okay_ , she told herself instead. Time stretched into an eternity…


	5. Padfoot's Guilt and Lily's Gift (Sirius)

Hello All!

Thank you to those who reviewed. Your words are encouraging and helpful! Without further ado, here is Chapter 5!

-Cat

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Chapter 5

 _Padfoot's Guilt and Lily's Gift_ _(Sirius)_

Sirius breathed deeply and looked around his flat. Everything was in order and neatly put away, which was unusual since he had started living alone. The things he would not need were packed into boxes and stuffed in the closet. The bed was stripped and any unnecessary clothes stored in bags. He even draped sheets over the furniture to stop them from getting dusty. His motorbike was safely concealed in a storage unit in London, easy to access should the need arise. Voldemort would surely send his followers to check his flat first. Meanwhile, Sirius would be on the run, taunting the Dark Lord with little clues to his whereabouts. He figured he'd start in France somewhere, then lead the Death Eaters on a little chase across Germany to Poland via Austria. From there he was not sure…

He would miss this place though. Cleared of clutter, it barely resembled the flat he'd occupied since Hogwarts. Only the shelf of Remus' books remained where it had been for three years. Sirius was not sure what to do with these. They were Remus' only worldly possessions. The bitter side of him wanted to toss them in the trash.

With a sigh, Sirius conjured another box and waved his wand. The books floated off the shelves and arranged themselves carefully inside the cardboard. He sealed them away and wrote "Remus" on the top. Inwardly scoffing at his sentimental actions, he shrank the whole thing and slipped it in his pocket to bring to Godric's Hollow. James would be less tempted to burn them in a bitter rage, at least. Besides, they would be safer from Death Eater raids there.

Something glowed behind him and Sirius spun, whipping out his wand, expecting dark figures and curses... Then he smiled wryly and lowered it. James' stag patronus landed soundlessly on the wood floor. His familiar voice echoed around the flat:

 _"Peter was the spy. Remus came in time to warn us. We're safe, but he's not. He's facing Voldemort in Godric's Hollow alone. Hurry."_

The message sucked the oxygen out of Sirius' lungs. "No, no, no…" It was as if someone had vanished every organ he possessed, leaving him feeling sick and empty. The magnitude of his mistake came crashing around his ears.

A second later, Sirius appeared on Founder's Lane outside of James and Lily's house. Hanging in the sky, ghastly and grinning, was the Dark Mark. The smell of sulphur and smoke clogged his nose. He reeled up the sidewalk on leaden legs, breath coming in heaving gasps. The front door was blasted away. Sirius entered through the yawning, blackened mouth. A charge hung in the air, remnants of defensive magic and dark spells crashing against each other. And a shiver of something else, something he felt deeper than his bones…

"Lumos." Signs of a furious battle were everywhere. Ugly curse scars were burned into the walls and floors. Papers and cinders were stirred by the breeze that entered from the gaping holes and shattered windows. The foyer was barely recognizable. Sirius' boots crunched on glass, plaster, and stone. He paused and listened. But the house was heavy with horrible, unyielding silence.

Gulping, Sirius held his wand higher. _Oh god, let him not be dead, let him not be dead._ The wreckage shivered under the light. After several moments of frantic searching, the shadows relinquished a crimson spatter. Blood.

A series of cracks on the street alerted Sirius to the arrival of several others. Aurors, Order Members, or Death Eaters? He was strangely indifferent to the answer as he studied the shining redness. The sight held him fixed in place, unable to move. Dazedly, he realized that there was a hand on his shoulder and a voice saying his name. He turned his head and found himself gazing into the piercing crystal eyes of Albus Dumbledore.

"I was too late," he explained numbly to the Headmaster. "I don't know what happened. Remus was supposed to be here."

"I know, Sirius," the Headmaster said solemnly.

"We need to figure out what happened. Voldemort took him somewhere; there's no body, I didn't find..." He couldn't finish.

"Let Alastor and Sturgis handle this, Sirius." Dumbledore was gently leading him away from the bloodstain on the floor.

Quite suddenly, Sirius was shouting. "No! He's still alive! We have to find him!"

"Sirius," Dumbledore said. "There's nothing you can do here now."

Sirius shook his head."It's my fault. I told James… I made him choose Peter instead. That _fucking bastard_!" He screamed the last two words. Dumbledore did not even wince, he just waited, steady and grave. Sirius was suddenly overcome by the strange desire to laugh. Little Peter gave them the slip. It was absurd. He choked down the hysteria. It was sobering. Lily and James and Harry could have been dead now if it weren't for Remus.

"How did he know?" he whispered.

"How did he know what?" Dumbledore asked.

"Remus. He warned them. He got them out. How did he know that Voldemort was coming?"

Dumbledore gazed at him thoughtfully, but did not answer. Slowly, Sirius revolved, looking around the Potter home. It was hard to see past the dust and destruction. Someone had cast lumos maxima spells and balls of the bluish white light hovered over the scene, making the searching figures appear ghostly and unreal. Almost dream-like. Sirius blinked hard. Mad-Eye and Sturgis were sifting through the rubble. Fellow aurors were there as well, their faces shocked and angry. James Potter was one of their own, after all. No one knew or cared about the reclusive werewolf who saved him except the Marauders and the order members. _Remus Lupin saved him and his family. Saved them from your mistake._ The search through the debris would be useless. Voldemort would not have left any clues to his whereabouts. He was too smart.

Sirius swallowed. It was becoming increasingly difficult to speak. "Are James, Lily, and Harry-"

"At Hogwarts," the Headmaster said before he could finish the question. "They're waiting for my return. You should come as well."

Sirius nodded dejectedly and murmured, "Let me go and get something from upstairs and then we can go."

He kept his eyes on his feet until he got to the stairs. The upper floor was untouched. The lamps in Harry's nursery were still burning in welcome when Sirius entered, as if ready to receive a sleepy baby. Sirius made his way to the crib and haltingly removed three stuffed animals: a stag, a black dog, and a wolf. He tucked them into his cloak and gingerly picked up the fourth. The rat's beady eyes glittered dully at him. Sirius hurled it to the floor.

"Incendio," he choked. The rat burst into flames. Sirius waited until the fire died out, leaving only a pile of ashes.

As he left the nursery, he turned out the lights, casting the hallway into shadows. A soft hiss reached his ears. Minnie was crouched by the stairs, her hair standing on end. Her luminous eyes were dilated in fear. As he approached, she backed away with a feline growl. She'd never forgiven him for chasing her in dog form. Remus had scolded him for that, even though she despised him even more, sensing the wolf lurking beneath the gentle countenance. She misjudged him. _I misjudged him._

"Stupefy." The cat slumped onto the floor. After a quick shrinking charm, Sirius lowered the tiny sleeping animal into the pocket with the stuffed creatures. Then he descended back down into the wreckage. Dumbledore was waiting in what was left of the living room. His eyes were closed, almost as if he were meditating.

"Ready," he said in a hoarse voice to elder wizard. Dumbledore's eyes blinked open and surveyed the house one last time over his glasses, expression pensive. Then, as if coming to a conclusion, he returned his gaze to Sirius.

"I will apparate us to my office." Sirius did not bother asking how the man could apparate into Hogwarts. He held tightly to the proffered arm and allowed himself to dragged into the uncomfortable rubber tube of apparation.

The office materialized around them and three figures jumped to their feet. Harry was sound asleep in his mother's arms. Lily and James were mute as Sirius and Dumbledore circumvented the desk to stand with them. The only sound came from McGonagall, who uttered one word: "Remus?"

"No sign of Voldemort or Remus," Dumbledore said.

"DAMN IT!"

Sirius jumped. James rarely lost control these days. He chose to bottle any emotions for private outbursts, when no one could see how much the war was wearing him down. But now, he lashed out, hitting a bowl of lemon drops and sending it flying across the room. The little muggle candies exploded across the carpet.

"James!" Lily admonished, but it lacked any bite. She looked desperately at Sirius, but he looked away. He couldn't face her, knowing what he'd done. He'd put her son, his godson, in danger. And he'd abandoned the friend to whom he'd vowed to never leave. _"We'll always be here for you, Moony."_ The memory was like poison ravaging his insides.

"I believe that he is still alive," Dumbledore continued. It was no comfort. Wherever Remus was, Sirius knew it would not be pleasant. "I have already taken steps to find him."

James was breathing hard, hands clenched into fists. With his jaw tight, he repeated the same question Sirius voiced in the ruins of the living room. "How did he know?"

"I don't know exactly, but it is possible that Remus may have overheard something on his assignment."

"Which was?"

"He was working undercover in a werewolf pack."

Sirius swore angrily, causing McGonagall to say, "Really, Black."

He didn't care. His emotions were volatile, surging with guilt. He needed someone to blame. Ignoring McGonagall, he grit out, "Which pack?"

"Fenrir Greyback," Dumbledore answered steadily.

"Why in hell would you do that to him?"

"Greyback has been branded with the Dark Mark and receives regular visits from other Death Eaters. The information Remus has been gathering is invaluable." Dumbledore held up a veined hand before Sirius could interrupt. "Remus agreed to this mission long ago, Sirius. He spent time building a reputation outside of the Order, traveling to different packs and establishing himself in the werewolf community. He understood the risk, but believed that defeating Voldemort was paramount to his own comfort and safety."

"He could have told us-"

"I decided, and Remus agreed, that secrecy was best for this mission. We both knew there was a spy in the order capable of compromising his position if he or she knew what Remus was doing."

"Everyone thought _he_ was the spy. You could have told them it wasn't him!"

"Would they have believed me, Sirius?" Dumbledore asked softly.

 _No._ The realization was a knife to his chest. _But you still should have told us._

The old man sighed and his shoulders slumped. "I did ask Remus if he would want me to do so anyway, but he said no."

"Why?" James asked.

"He allowed the scrutiny because he wanted to lure the real spy into a false sense of security. He hoped that with all eyes on him, the real spy would make a mistake and reveal himself."

"Sounds like something Remus would do," James murmured. Sirius could not help but agree. It was clever and idiotic and self-sacrificing. _You should have known he would not betray you_ , his inner voice accused nastily.

"Now, as I understand it, Peter Pettigrew was the spy."

"Yes," James confirmed. He was not looking at Sirius. "We thought that we could mislead Voldemort, make him chase down Sirius while Peter remained in hiding…" James trailed away.

"I am sorry, James," Dumbledore said.

The office fell silent. Even the portraits hanging on the walls were raptly paying attention to the conversation. Sirius vaguely wondered what time it was. Outside it was dark, the windows reflecting the room's occupants, watered down and transparent. It seemed like days since Sirius was packing up his apartment. Remus' books were still in his pocket. The weight of them was like a mountain.

"I've had an apartment in the castle set up for the Potters," McGonagall said, breaking the quiet. "Black could stay with them as well. I get the feeling all of them should stay within the protection of these walls tonight."

"Thank you, Minerva," Dumbledore said. "You should all get some sleep. With the dawn comes hope and clearer vision."

"But Remus…" Lily began quietly.

"I will work on finding Remus while you rest, you have my word." Dumbledore's gaze met each of theirs over his half-moon glasses, a crystalline promise.

Too tired and overwrought to argue further, the remaining three friends and the baby allowed themselves to be lead down the spiral staircase. The castle was silent, its corridors dimly lit by torches. The building always had a life of its own, and tonight it seemed to understand the magnitude of what had happened. Its young Marauders, who had filled the walls and the grounds with laughter and warmth, were mangled. The shadows were deeper.

McGonagall made no attempt at conversation until they reached their sanctuary. The apartment was behind a portrait of Barnabas the Barmy and opened to the password, "Niffler." It was comfortable, decorated in Gryffindor colors and set up with a sitting room and two bedrooms: one for James, Lily, and Harry, the other for Sirius. A fire crackled in the fireplace.

The portrait door closed and the three adults faced each other. Without the audience of Dumbledore and McGonagall, the tension between them solidified. Now all of James and Lily's attention was on Sirius and he still could not meet their eyes. Swallowing hard, Sirius reached into his pocket and pulled out the stuffed animals.

"I brought these," he said softly, offering them to James. His best friend took them without a word. "And Minnie." The miniature cat was still sleeping, curled in the palm of his hand, breath rhythmic beneath brindled fur. He set her on the couch and restored her to her original size. Then Sirius let his hands fall to his sides, leaving the books untouched.

Silence, then: "I can take Harry," James said to Lily. She handed over their son, who clung tightly to his father in his sleep. James mechanically adjusted him in his arms so he was holding Harry and the stuffed animals with ease. As James turned towards their room, Sirius said, "Wait."

"Yes?" James asked. His voice was politely controlled but Sirius knew James too well to be fooled.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out. He forced himself to meet the even hazel gaze. He poured every ounce of regret that was eating him from the inside out into his next statement. "This is my fault. I should have realized that Peter was more susceptible. He was always a follower, always wanted to be with people more popular than he was."

"You didn't know," James responded. He sounded genuine. His blank face even surrendered a flash of heartache. "None of us suspected. You can't blame yourself."

"But I should never have suspected Remus. I'm sorry for making you think less of him."

James' steady regard hardened. There was a hint of guilt, then a blaze of accusation. "No, you shouldn't have."

With that, he disappeared into the bedroom. Sirius watched him leave, miserable. Everything was wrong. One terrible night and Sirius' friendships were collapsing. He deserved James' coldness tonight. _He won't forgive me until we get Remus back_ , Sirius thought.

"He might surprise you," said Lily. Sirius had not realized he'd spoken out loud. Lily was still with him, beautiful even beneath the fear and weariness.

"Last time I made him this angry…" Sirius struggled for words. Lily had never really known the specifics of the prank he played on Snape, but she had guessed. "Last time was because I betrayed Remus' trust. And his. He didn't forgive me until Remus did. This… this is a thousand times worse."

"You were both teenage boys then. He's grown up, and so have you."

Sirius felt a lump in his throat. _Had he?_ There was something broken in the Marauders, and maybe it was him. It was always Sirius who caused strife and tension. He blinked away the stinging in his eyes. Damn his weakness. And Lily, for so easily peeling back his layers. When he spoke next the words were barely audible. "And if we never get Remus back?"

Lily was quiet for a long time. Her eyes were wet when she finally said, "We'll survive. We have to. Harry still needs us. And we'll need each other. _James_ will need you."

"Yeah…"

"You're forgiven, Sirius. To me, at least."

"Why?" Sirius marveled. Lily had been furious when he voiced his opinion of Remus weeks ago. His relationship with his best mate's wife had never been so tenuous in the last month.

"It's not easy," she said with a small smile. "But I know that you're already punishing yourself enough. I don't have to energy to be angry when there are bigger things to fight for. And I'll need you to help me watch out for my boys."

Sirius had never appreciated the colossal strength it took to forgive until this moment. A strength he would never have. He mutely thanked the woman in front of him with a nod, then sank onto the couch next to Minnie, face buried in his hands. He would not sleep tonight. Lily put a warm hand on his shoulder as she passed. He held in his tears until the bedroom door clicked shut.


	6. Interlude I: The Valley (Peter)

So I'm going to periodically add these little moments from Peter's point of view. He's a character I'm interested in because of the choices he made, and it will add a little bit of a different take on this story. These interludes will be shorter for the most part, so it'll make updating a little quicker, both for this chapter and possibly the next (I have a big grad school test tomorrow, so maybe not this time). Read and Review!

Warnings: Depiction of torture. Not too graphic, but it's there.

-Cat

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Chapter 6

 _Interlude I: The Valley (Peter)_

Peter Pettigrew had not been born with a cold heart. Like most people in the world, he was born with the desire to be recognized and accepted, the desire to be loved. From this acceptance, Peter drew his worth. And Peter had thought his desire was fulfilled in the form of three friends that he met at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. For the first time in his life, he felt wanted. He was not handsome and fierce like Sirius, or brave and loyal like James, or intelligent and gentle like Remus. This was okay, because he was supportive and kind, like Peter. He was there to comfort Sirius after a row with Regulus, to help James plan elaborate date-proposals to Lily and soothe his nerves before a Quidditch game, to hold comfortable conversations with Remus by the common room fire, to heal his bruises and brew him potions to ease the pre-moon aches and fevers. At Hogwarts, the four of them were unstoppable. They were the Marauders, heroes in their own minds.

But after Hogwarts…

Time to be just friends grew scarce. James married Lily and they had a beautiful baby boy. Sirius buried himself in work, both as an auror and in the Order. He barely slept and drank too much. Remus became more and more distant, withdrawing into himself as the outside world pummeled him down. And Peter was left behind, continuing to do his best to be there for them. He worked long days at the Ministry, filing and organizing for higher-level wizards. He babysat Harry when Lily and James needed a rest and he knew just what to do to make the baby stop crying. He monitored Sirius' alcohol consumption and wrote to Remus, sending him his favorite teas and anecdotes from school and good books. And with each passing day when no one noticed, no one was grateful, Peter grew resentful.

He was forgotten. He did his best and it was never good enough. Heroes, he learned, were rarer than rising from the dead. He had followed his friends into this war, a war that was tearing them apart, and then he was abandoned. He was not brave or quick enough in a fight, nor could he carefully sort through mundane information and intelligence reports to find critical details. The little jobs he did for the Order were barely consequential. They did not need him. A part of Peter, a bigger part than he would ever admit, wondered if they ever did. Maybe he had always been worthless. His supportive deeds waned and they continued on without him. Resent turned into acidic bitterness.

He was afraid and no one cared. Peter feared the Dark Lord with a terror he knew his friends would never understand. His friends who forgot about him. Peter supposed that this was the reason he caved so easily when Lucius Malfoy visited his little Ministry cubicle mid-June. Lucius offered asylum and understanding. He praised his skills at organization. " _The Dark Lord rewards his followers greatly."_

And so, unnoticed, Peter fell into the dark.

For a while, he relished in his new-found importance as the Dark Lord's spy in the Order of the Phoenix. He knew now that James and Lily only invited him over because they pitied him. Sirius thought him weak and helpless, which was why he came over to check on him so often. And Remus… well, Remus' kindness was always genuine. But Remus was rarely around. When he was there, he was often too exhausted to spend time with anyone. And he made a good scapegoat, drawing the attention away from Peter.

Peter knew better than to believe that the Dark Lord actually valued him. It was enough to exist in the eyes of someone, even if he was Lord Voldemort. And if he missed his friends, he told himself that he was being weak. If he trembled uncontrollably in terror when facing the Dark Lord, if he screamed in pain when he displeased his master, his friends ( _no, ex-friends_ ) would not help. He was branded and there was no turning back.

And now, he had done the unthinkable. He delivered the Potters to their deaths.

How had he come to this? He used to look forward to life. Now he dreaded waking up every morning. He hated his own existence. _I'm a servant of the Dark Lord,_ Peter told himself angrily, terrified. _I have no reason to fear death if I am loyal._ Eventually, these statements dissolved into the same mantra, _I had no choice, I had no choice, I had no choice...He would have killed me._

But tonight, mere hours since his master had gone to murder his ex-friends, he knew something was wrong. He had been summoned to the Dark Lord's current hiding place, Malfoy Manor, in the darkness after midnight. Instead of a triumphant pull, the Dark Mark twisted and burned pure agony into his forearm. Hiding was not an option. With a dry sob of terror, Peter apparated to the foreboding gates. Macnair greeted him with a sneer and lead him through the rows of hedges to the double doors engraved with snakes.

"Watch it, Pettigrew," Macnair counseled nastily. "He's very unhappy."

Peter could barely command his legs to bear him into the huge, high-ceilinged sitting room. Lucius did not look at him when he entered, his eyes fixed on their master. Severus Snape raised his eyebrows at Peter's appearance, but did not comment. Voldemort was standing in front of the enormous fireplace, where white flames haloed his dark silhouette.

"M-my Lord," Peter stammered. The Dark Lord's stillness was like a snake about to strike. His hands were not visible to Peter, but he knew that he was holding his wand in his spider-like fingers. The fire popped.

"I do not tolerate mistakes, Pettigrew," Voldemort said in a high, clear voice. Peter could not help flinching.

"M-mistakes?" he squeaked. "I-I don't-"

"The Potters were warned of my coming. Tell me, how could this be if only I and my most loyal Death Eaters knew?"

"I-"

"Did you tell anyone else, Peter?" Voldemort hissed dangerously. The Dark Lord turned and Peter was frozen in the crimson gaze. A second passed then: "I see that you did not."

Peter opened and closed his mouth, but could not make a sound. Voldemort studied him as if he were nothing more than a cockroach. Slowly, he spoke again, "I suppose I will need to be harder on your werewolf friend. A pitiful Occlumens, your friend. He will break…" Peter was confused, but he dared not interrupt.

" _Crucio!_ "

Instinctually, Peter cowered down, whimpering, "No, please!"

But the pain never came. Instead, a strangled yell, horribly familiar, echoed throughout the chamber. Peter gaped. He had not noticed the blood-stained bundle of rags at Voldemort's feet until it began to writhe and twitch under the Cruciatus Curse. The screaming continued, choked and strained, for an unendurable amount of time. Peter was desperate to cover his ears, to turn away…

Finally, it stopped. Remus was left curled on his side and gasping on the hearth. Lucius was leering cruelly, but Snape remained stiff and unmoved. Voldemort regarded Remus' crumpled form with a cold smile.

"At least your service was not totally wasted," the Dark Lord said softly. "The werewolf will be an invaluable source of information. I hear he is one of Dumbledore's most trusted advisors in the Order. And he will pay for what he cost me tonight. Well done, Peter."

Voldemort swept away from the room, leaving Lucius and Macnair to drag Peter's broken friend away. Snape stared after them with impassive black eyes. Peter's composure failed him. He barely made it outside before vomiting into the dead rose bushes.


	7. In Places Evil Cannot See (James)

Hello dear readers. Thank you for your reviews! I made it through my test and feel pretty good, so why not write?

Disclaimer: Again. If you recognize it, it's not mine. JK is the genius.

-Cat

* * *

Chapter 7

 _In Places Evil Cannot See (James)_

It was the evening of November 3rd and there were no leads. Dumbledore moved Lily, James, baby Harry, and Sirius into a large, two-story cottage in Kent with Albus himself as the Secret Keeper. He was still not speaking to Sirius. The atmosphere inside the walls was thick with tension when Sirius was not at work. His presence was like a weight. But his absence hurt even more. It did not help that Sirius did nothing to defend himself, did not approach James with any more apologies. Instead the vibrant man dimmed and wallowed in guilty misery. James could not bring himself to say anything to make him feel better.

Sirius would be home from work soon, after another day of desperately urging the aurors to intensify the search for Remus. Few were willing to lift more than a finger to help a werewolf. Every day, Sirius returned more dejected. James did not think he could handle being in the same room as his friend tonight. So James stood out in the cold November weather, watching the stars brighten as the surrounding sky grew darker. The moon would not rise until the early hours past midnight. Without consciously deciding to, James transitioned smoothly into Prongs.

The hedges surrounding the yard were comforting to his altered mind. They whispered of safety and shelter for his family. But part of the pack was missing. Prongs paced the border, tossing his noble head. Moony was gone. He was driven away and Prongs was at fault. He was supposed to be the leader. But he had failed his pack-mate.

"James."

Prongs' ears flicked back to the beckoning of his beloved. She was stronger than he was. She had not abandoned Moony when even his closest friends turned their backs. She had been able to forgive Padfoot and ease his pain.

"Sirius is back from the Ministry," she was saying. "He says the aurors have actually seen a decrease in Death Eater activity… James, you need to come back inside."

He shook his head, eyeing her with liquid hazel, trying to communicate without words. And Lily, ever intuitive, wrapped herself tighter in her robe and stepped out into the leaf-strewn garden. She stood at his shoulder, small in stature, hair gleaming red in its messy bun from the light spilling from the open door. He looked back and saw Sirius pacing in the kitchen, bouncing Harry on his hip. Lily followed the stag's gaze.

"It's hard to forgive someone if you can't forgive yourself," she murmured.

Funny, how something could sound so simple and be so difficult. But Lily was right, as usual. He blamed himself as much as he blamed Sirius. With a long exhale, Prongs became the messy-haired man again.

"I lied to him. And I left him." He felt defeated.

"You were protecting us. We did not know if there were others." She placed her hand on his arm, bracing him. "Forgive yourself, James."

"How?" His voice was small.

"Let go of your pride. We all make mistakes, we're human. Besides, you need Padfoot by your side in this." She kissed him on the cheek. "I'll see you inside."

James had no idea how long he stood there. He knew he would never forget the impossibility of the choice he made that Halloween. For the rest of his life, there would be a part of him that he would loathe for leaving. And a part that was relieved that his wife and son were safe. But maybe...maybe he could forgive doubting his friend.

When he re-entered the cottage, his cheeks were pink with cold and his fingertips had lost feeling. It was dark inside, the only light coming from a flickering lamp on the table. Sirius was seated, nursing a firewhiskey. The war had taken a great deal from them all, Sirius especially. He had been robbed of his little brother and disowned by his family. James studied his friend. He needed a haircut again. The black locks were untamed and hung wildly past his shoulders.

"Pour me one," James said, sliding down next to him. Sirius's head snapped up in shock. Clearly, he had not noticed James come inside. James chuckled. "Constant vigilance, Black," he quoted in a passable imitation of Moody's voice.

Sirius snorted and conjured a glass. He filled it with a generous helping of firewhiskey and slid it towards James. "Cheers," he said hoarsely.

James drained it quickly, welcoming the burning sensation traveling down his throat. "Some year, huh?" he muttered.

"Some _years_ ," Sirius corrected. He traced the woodgrain of the table.

"Sirius."

"Hm?" He didn't look up.

"I forgive you."

That caught his attention. His gaze left the table, almost comically confused. "Just like that?"

"Lily gave me some sense back," James said. He nearly shrugged, but stopped himself. The action would belittle their reconciliation. He held Sirius' hopeful blue eyes, unwavering. "I wasn't just mad at you. I was mad at me too. We both made the same mistake."

"I doubted him first," Sirius lamented. He stared broodingly at the glass of amber liquid in his hands. There was something dark in his expression that James did not like.

"Well, that's something you'll need to apologize to Remus for, but not to me."

"If he's still alive."

"Of course he is," James said fiercely. He had to believe it. "And we're going to get him back. Someone has to whip your sorry ass back into shape after moping around here. I don't have the patience."

"Besides, I could take you."

"Only because I'd let you," James countered. Sirius grinned a little wider and James was relieved to see something re-ignite in the man. For the first time in days (though to James, it felt like years), the pair fell into comfortable silence. The night was less oppressive when they were friends again. Sipping whiskey and reluctant to sleep, they waited on the night. James hoped Lily would not be too unhappy with him come morning. He needed this time to be with Sirius in their shared loss. The Marauders would never be whole again, and the awareness twisted James' insides with a strange mourning. Peter used to talk about muggle psychology he learned from his mother. Did the stages of grief apply to broken friendships? _Peter…_

Brow furrowed, James carefully edged away from the roiling emotions concerning Peter. He would have to deal with the confusing mixture eventually, but the idea of facing that betrayal made him want to forget ever meeting the little blond boy. _How can I ever forget who he used to be?_ There were good memories, ones filled with fun and pranks and laughter. Could these escape the poison of Peter's treachery? It was like the very ground he walked on was a lie, ripped away leaving him falling forever through space… _Back away, James,_ he counseled himself. _Now is not a good time to think about that. There are worse things to worry about._

Sirius made a sudden movement, jolting James back to the present. A streak of bright silver entered the kitchen and coalesced into a glowing phoenix. James leapt to his feet, sensing Sirius do the same.

" _Floo to my office_."

Dumbledore's voice had barely faded away before Sirius was racing to the fireplace in the living room. James waved his wand and a note appeared for Lily. She was definitely going to be mad at him now, but he was too desperate for news to wait. By the time he reached the fire, Sirius was disappearing into the flames. Without hesitating James followed, stepping out into Dumbledore's office, glasses askew.

The Headmaster was sitting behind his desk, hands folded. He would have looked serene, but James nearly quailed at the look in his blue eyes. The Headmaster's displeasure was never taken lightly, but tonight, James understood how Voldemort could fear the elderly wizard before him. His rage was intense and concentrated, like lightning. James was sure had he provoked such an expression, he would be dead on the spot. He almost expected a storm to break out around the wizard. But when Dumbledore spoke, his voice was level.

"Remus has been found."

"Where?" Sirius demanded.

"A hideout of the Death Eaters, Malfoy Manor. Before you interrupt me, Sirius, let me finish explaining."

"We don't have time-"

"Do not assume I don't care about finding Remus," Dumbledore said in a stern tone, eyes flashing. Sirius' jaw snapped shut. "We cannot help him by blazing in without a plan. This must be done with carefully, or our chances of success, or indeed survival, dwindle to nothing."

Both James and Sirius nodded reluctantly. James was suddenly aware of the other people in the room. Near Dumbledore's desk, Professor McGonagall stood like a sentinel. In a corner, Mundungus Fletcher was grumbling to himself. In front of him, blueprints were spread on a table cleared of instruments. It looked like a house, and Fletcher was making notes on a pad of paper, checking structures and measurements. Mad-Eye was next to him, his blue eye whizzing madly, the other fixed on a figure in the shadows behind Dumbledore. James squinted.

"Snape," he blurted in shock. Sallow, thin, and hook-nosed, his childhood nemesis was standing quite still and glaring at James. With a note of astonishment, he realized he had not seen Snape in almost a year. The last time had been in a skirmish with Voldemort's forces. He had not been surprised that Snape was fighting on the dark side.

"What in the name of Merlin's saggy left-"

"Sirius." Once again, Dumbledore halted Sirius mid-sentence.

"He's a Death Eater," Sirius snarled. "He shouldn't be here." James found himself agreeing with Sirius. Old, habitual anger coiled in his stomach like a snake, inflamed by the loss of Remus… and Peter.

"Severus is here at my invitation," Dumbledore clarified pointedly. "He has been acting as a spy for the order in secret for several months. It is incredibly dangerous for him to do so, so I caution you to keep this knowledge confidential. The only reason I choose to reveal him now is because of the difficulty this mission will entail. And, because of Severus' position in the Death Eaters, I do not want him caught in the crossfire."

"You trust him?" James asked incredulously. Snape sneered from where he lurked.

"Yes." Dumbledore's response was firm. "For reasons that are between Severus and myself. It is because of Severus that we know where Remus is."

"Three days after he was taken!" Sirius shouted.

"One does not abruptly leave the side of the Dark Lord without explanation and expect to be welcomed back with open arms, Black," Snape said icily. It was the first time he spoke. He stepped closer to Dumbledore and the light hit his face. He was pallid, hair greasier than James remembered.

"I'm sure your precious Dark Lord is excitedly waiting for your return with Order secrets," Sirius countered.

"If it will keep me above suspicion," Snape retorted through clenched teeth.

"And what about Peter? Why didn't you say anything?" James demanded.

Snape paused. "I didn't know about Pettigrew," he said quietly. James was surprised to hear the regret in his tone. His anger came to a puzzling halt.

"Gentlemen. This is neither the time or the place." McGonagall's words suspended the argument.

"Thank you, Minerva," Dumbledore said softly. "It is best that we waste no more time. Now, Severus, since James and Sirius have arrived and we have exchanged...greetings...please continue with your report."

Snape's dark eyes flickered, but he tonelessly began to deliver his findings. "As I was saying before Black and Potter appeared, the Manor is heavily warded and difficult to access. Any hope for a rescue attempt would be a small group that infiltrates the Manor when the number of Death Eaters is low and the Dark Lord is absent. As He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named shows a particular… interest in the prisoner, this may prove problematic. We can either draw him out, which is precarious if he guesses the intention, or we can wait until his leaves, which is also risky because it will make variables such as timing unpredictable. I think you would prefer if we could control as many details as possible, however it is done. Either way, you need to act soon. The Dark Lord is seeking information on the Order. Lupin is remarkably stubborn, but one can only take so much…"

Snape's impersonal tone wavered. He trailed away and grimaced. James winced at the implications in Snape's speech. _Oh Merlin, Remus…_ A hand grabbed his arm tightly. Without looking, James immediately knew it was Sirius.

"Please, continue Severus," Dumbledore instructed. The storm was contained in his voice now.

"Once you've decided on when, you have to plan how," Snape said, returning to his detached analysis. "Fletcher has the list of wards on the property, and these are only the ones I know of. There may be more. Malfoy Manor is an old pureblood residence with safeguards from medieval times. And besides the Death Eaters, Narcissa Malfoy and their son, Draco, are usually in the upper floors. They are removed from the action, but a constant presence. Even if no Death Eaters are there, she will not hesitate to call them if something is amiss.

"Inside, the Manor design is fairly straightforward. There is access to the cellars from the sitting room and the kitchens. This is where Lupin is being held. Assuming you make it to the cellars undetected, the main challenge will be getting out. This is an obstacle I have not yet been able to solve." Here, Snape's expression contracted. "I do not suggest going the way you came. Getting inside will require stealth and speed, something you'll lose once you have Lupin. There are apparation wards and portkey barriers on the entire house. Exiting could be...messy."

As Snape finished, he melted back into the shadows. James had to admit, the detail in which he had analyzed a potential rescue plan was thorough. A muscle jumped in James' jaw as Snape's words bounced around in his head: " _As He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named shows a particular… interest in the the prisoner...one can only take so much… Stealth and speed, something you'll lose once you have Lupin._ "

Struggling to stamp down the panic, he realized that the other people in the room were already discussing solutions and further details. Mundungus and Moody's discussion of wards and plans hardly mattered. Remus was alone. He was being tortured by Voldemort and they had to sit on their asses and _problem-solve_. Patience fraying, James wrestled to control himself, control his emotions. Remus was always better at self-control than any of them. _Think, think, think. You're a Marauder, this should be easy..._

 _But the Marauders don't exist anymore,_ a nasty voice said in his mind. _They died long ago when you stopped trusting each other. Broken promises lead to broken friendships._

 _Enough,_ James told the voice. _Friendships can be rebuilt. We'll make new promises._

Absurdly, James remembered a pact they made many years ago. They were twelve years old and surrounding a bed in the hospital wing. The orange glow of the setting sun streamed through the windows like fire as they solemnly swore that they would be forever bound to each other as friends. Remus had surreptitiously wiped his eyes. It had been overwhelming for him, something James did not completely understand at the time. That night they snuck him out of the hospital wing (Madame Pomfrey had been furious). They celebrated in the newly discovered kitchens and the house-elves fawned over them, especially Remus, who was unfailingly kind…

James' eyes shot open. He had not noticed closing them. Sirius was watching him with a worried expression, hand still on his arm. The grip was loose, but stabilizing.

"Prongs? He's going to be okay," he muttered.

"I think it would be best to wait for Voldemort to take his leave. It would be too dangerous and suspicious to cause a distraction." Moody was speaking in the background. "Snape could signal us-"

"Della," James whispered.

"What?" Confusion contorted Sirius' eyebrows. He tilted his head, dropping his hand. The place where it had rested felt cold.

"Della," James repeated, louder this time. Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Moody stopped their discussion to look at James with equally confounded expressions. Snape was staring as if James had taken leave of his senses. "Della, Padfoot! She adored Remus, remember? She would bring him hot chocolate every moon when he woke up! And he always complimented her cooking. And he helped her when she got sick during our fourth year."

"That's right, Prongs," Sirius said slowly, now looking slightly alarmed. But Dumbledore seemed to have understood. The blue eyes started to twinkle.

"Brilliant, James."

"Wha's a Della?" Mundungus asked.

"She's a house-elf who works in the Hogwarts kitchens," Sirius explained.

"And?"

"The anti-apparation wards don't work for house-elves," James said. "Only wizards. Especially for a family like the Malfoys. Their house-elves need to be able to travel with ease to fetch things like food, things too mundane for Narcissa to go out and buy. A house-elf could apparate us out of there once we reach Remus-"

"A house-elf willing to risk her life for a friend!" Sirius finished, a grin spreading across his face. "We could keep her safe until we get inside, then side-along away! Voldemort would never see that coming!"

* * *

James could hear crows when he and Sirius returned the the cottage. The carrion birds always lingered the longest as fall withered away. The black panes confirmed the night, but the birds signaled that morning must be on its way. Della had agreed to the plan with shining eyes. She seemed shaken by what had happened, but stuck out her lower lip and firmly accepted her part in the rescue. But, the buzz of energy that coursed through James in Dumbledore's office had burnt out. He mumbled a soft good night to Sirius and went to his and Lily's room, wishing that he would be able to sleep. He knew he wouldn't.

Lily stirred gently as James slid in next to her, only removing his shoes. Immediately, she fit against his chest, warm and comforting against the ache that resided there. Her scent filled him.

"Time issit?" she slurred.

"No idea," he breathed back. "Almost dawn. We found him, Lil."

She turned her head towards him, rustling the sheets. Her hair was dark against the pillows. James imagined the deep redness of it, the green of her eyes.

"You found him," she exhaled.

"Actually…" James hesitated only for a moment. "It was Snape."

"Severus?" she said quietly. A distant hope was in the question. James did not feel the expected annoyance when he heard it. If possible, his love for her strengthened. She had always believed that there was goodness in all people.

"He's been acting as a spy for Dumbledore for months," he told her.

A long breath moved her. "We're going to get Remus back."

All of his fears returned like a stampede. "What if he's-what if…" He couldn't finish. He felt her still against him.

"Then we'll have to find a way to move on."

"I don't think we could be the same again."

"James," she said softly. "Too much has happened to ever really go back." He knew it was true.

"Did I do this?"

"Do what?"

"I've always tried to be the best for them. Sirius, Remus, ...Peter. I tried to be everything they needed, I held them together when things were bad. In school we were always so close. What if it's my fault that we fell apart?"

"James Potter, this is not on you." He did not argue. That his love did not blame him was balm enough for now. He held her closer. She relaxed against him. There was something sorrowful about her. He could not see her face, but he knew her so thoroughly, he could sense it in the curve of her back, the weight of her head.

"Will this ever end?" she whispered.

The answer came almost without thought. "One day," he said.

* * *

a/n: Let me know what you think! Up next, Remus POV. Sorry, I've kept you guys hanging a little longer...


	8. Dark Water (Remus)

Warnings: Depictions of torture and violence (physical/psychological)

* * *

Chapter 8

 _Dark Water (Remus)_

 _The Whomping Willow shivered and thrashed violently in a blizzard. Snow was blinding, his bones ached, his head throbbed. The tunnel was lined in ice… Dumbledore's sky blue eyes twinkled over a game of gobstones in front of the fire… "You are far braver than you know. Better be GRYFFINDOR!"... "Sirius told him how to get in." James was stone-faced, but refused to look away, to avert his gaze. There was a roaring in his ears… "I would like to speak with the four of you about the Order of the Phoenix."_

"No!"

He was shivering on the floor. His head was pounding, his vision was blurred. The effort to rip his mind away left him drained. His thoughts spilled across the stones like marbles, rolling in every direction. Some part of his remaining self scrambled after them. _No, don't…_ Remus' panting breath was harsh in his ears. He was laid bare, completely vulnerable.

"Crucio." The voice was coldly inhuman in its apathy.

Excruciating pain unlike anything he had experienced, worse than any transformation. Every cell was on fire. He bit his tongue and spat blood. His concentration shredded.

"Legilimens!"

 _His mother's coffin was being lowered into the ground… "You'll pay for that Lupin!" Remus laughed and scurried away in the snow, Sirius chasing after him with a huge grin, hair damp and packed with white… Sirius watched him wide-eyed as he cowered away from them. "Please, don't...I'll just leave, you don't have to do anything." "What on earth would we do to you? You're our friend, Remus." … Peter was laughing helplessly at James' jokes… Peter looked up from their chess game to check on Sirius who was brooding in the corner. He exchanged a worried look with Remus… "You're leaving?" Peter whispered. "Yes."_

"Get out!"

 _"Regulus has been presumed dead. Bloody idiot. Mother's fucking heart-broken." Sirius sniffed and drained another shot of firewhiskey… Sirius turned away from him, eyes burning with suspicion-_

The flagstones on the floor were spattered with droplets of blood. Remus focused on these. This was all that existed, nothing else. Nothing in his mind but the specks of scarlet on slate. Nothing…

 _"Like to believe that I've still got some humanity left." Declan's face…_

 _"We'll always be here for you, Moony."_

Red flowers on a gray backdrop, shining wetly through the fog…

 _The calm certainty of what was coming. "I can hold him long enough." Death would claim only one tonight._

With an enormous effort, Remus was struggling for breath on the floor. His brutalized mind was his again. Days ago, he would take this time to frantically pull the remains of his self together, to stitch back his identity after the violent ransacking of his brain. Now, he knew better. He let his memories lie scattered and discarded. It would be harder for _him_ to connect them, to find the information he wanted. Chronology gives meaning. Only the core things could be kept, for the sake of his own soul. His friend's faces and voices. The Wolf. Sunrise.

"Pathetic."

Voldemort's voice grated on his mind like claws. _He won't win._ But Remus was getting weaker…emptier…

"The Wolf strengthens him, my Lord." Remus recognized the voice, but could no longer place it. There was a flash of something...cold gray eyes and blond hair...

"He will break. Soon. Pettigrew!"

"Y-Yes, my Lord?"

"Don't let him sleep."

"Of-Of course, my Lord."

He was lifted up by a pair of arms and dragged to the cellar door. Some part of his body struggled, but it was useless. He was tossed down the stairs and landed in a heap. The door shut with a bang, followed by hesitant footsteps that descended step by step. The Wolf growled menacingly, but the crumbled man it possessed did not move. Hands, shaking and hesitant, pulled him to a pillar and sat him upright. The coldness soaked through his thin shirt and into his bones, sharpening his senses.

"Y-You have to stay awake," said the voice. Remus knew this voice too, but it raised a host of emotions that confused and tangled with his fragile brain. Peter's face, lit up with delight; Peter's face, contorted and afraid, turning away, abandoning him. Wormtail. Friend. _No_. Remus pulled his heavy eyes upwards.

"Go away," he whispered. His throat was raw from screaming.

"I-I can't," Peter responded. "He'll kill me."

Memories of Peter, tattered and tainted, fought weakly with his will. _No_ , he commanded them. _Stay where you are. Stay dead_. This was not his friend. Blackness was obscuring his vision like ink.

"Ennervate!"

The spell jolted through him like an electric current, spasming his already damaged nerves. The basement was back, dingy and damp.

"I'm sorry," Peter choked.

Remus did not have the energy to react. Not that he cared. Was it bad to stop caring?

He couldn't remember.

* * *

 _… Sirius. His face was white as Remus screamed at him, throat raw. Two strong hands were holding him back, vice-like on his biceps, but Remus hardly noticed. "I never what to speak to you again," he hissed. Sirius gasped as if he'd been slapped. Remus pulled his arms away violently, struggling with the wolf as he stormed out of the dormitory…_

"Such anger, Lupin," hissed the Devil. "But what could anyone expect from a beast? _Crucio_."

His body responded, jerking and twitching. The Devil's words were dripping acid on his will. And then he stabbed into his mind. Again. Again. Again…

 _"And it's Potter with the Quaffle, he weaves around the Slytherin defense, he shoots, he SCORES!" A deafening roar…_

 _"Did you like question ten, Moony?" "Loved it. Give five signs that identify a werewolf. Excellent question."_

 _James' eyes were sorrowful as he watched Sirius' hunched back at the water's edge. "He doesn't want to go home. It's getting bad," he murmured to Remus. "I offered for him to come and stay at my place, but…"_

 _"I suck at this." "You don't suck. Come on, Pete, let's try again. Concentrate. Try and imagine it coming to you. Make a picture in your head before you summon." "Accio feather! Merlin's beard, I did it!" Bright smile and pale blue eyes…_

 _"I forgive you." It came out as a barely a whisper. "What?" Disbelief in blue eyes. "I forgive you." It was stronger this time. A cold wind crossed the black lake, brushing the hair from Sirius' face. Tear-tracks gleamed in the starlight. "You shouldn't. What I did was-" "Stupid. A mistake. I think you won't do it again." And suddenly Sirius' arms were around him and he was chanting, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"_

And then pain again, a furious burning wave, discarding the moments like ashes. Remus lay on the ground. And let them go. A single tear slid along his cheek.

* * *

 _Yellow eyes and long white teeth flash. His body was being ripped into pieces… "Mummy, please!" he sobbed. "Let me out! I don't want to!" His mother sobbed into his father's shoulder on the other side of the door… The moon was bloated, chasing his dreams, venomous and vindictive…_

A thrill of anger pulsed in his blood. _Leave! Kill!_ The wolf wanted out. He was writhing inside the withering man, snarling. But Voldemort pressed forward, a torture curse banishing the wolf deep into the recesses, leaving only the man again.

 _Deep gouges filled the shack, remnants of the night. Laying in a pool of blood. Drowning… His father could not look him in the eye, locking chains around his wrists. "It's okay, dad," the boy murmured. "It's okay."... "Monster." The pale boy was reflected in a mirror, body marred by silvery scars…_

"No…" he moaned. He was alone, always alone. He was diminishing, losing all meaning. Voldemort was winning; he pushed further and further, desiccating him, tearing him into nothing. Someone in the crowd of apathetic, sadistic observers watched with watery, shame-filled blue eyes. The man on the floor was abandoned.

But once he was not...something happened, something incredible...

 _He shivered on the thin mattress, waiting for the sun to set, wrapped in a blanket that would soon resemble a pile of thread. The door creaked open and a rat scuttled inside. Remus smiled in welcome and the rat jumped on the bedspread and curled against his hand. A dog followed, jet black and panting, pink tongue lolling out. Behind the dog, a stag entered, noble and proud. Liquid hazel eyes regarded Remus with something beyond animal feeling, something like the love of a brother…_

Suddenly, his thoughts cleared, entirely his own. He tasted blood in his mouth. The cold floor was hard against his cheek, a crack running darkly from his face. And Death Eaters surrounded him. A manic, triumphant laughter was filling his ears, feminine and deranged. Voldemort was there, his face almost surprised, but quickly concealed. _Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs._ The names were strange, but real, Remus was certain. _Brothers._ The knowledge felt warm in his chest. He met the red eyes in the white skull and smiled. Voldemort sneered.

"Legilimens!"

 _Protego!_ Remus thought, hard.

 _"I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to"... A young man in Dumbledore's office, angry, saying, "I have pushed the boundaries of magic further, perhaps, than they have ever been pushed." ...He stood in a mansion, wand aimed at three people: an older couple and a young man who was handsome and haughty. "Avada Kedavra!"...He was walking through Hogwarts, a journal clutched in one hand...He fingered a strange ring emblazoned with a strange symbol, speaking with Horace Slughorn, who was disconcerted by his words...the seal of Hogwarts flashed across his vision…_

 _...an echo of thought, an overwhelming fear, a fear of dying..._

An almighty, ripping agony seared through Remus' head and he was thrown onto his back, skull smacking the ground with a crack. He shouted in pain and curled onto his side, struggling to figure out what happened. Were those his memories? The laughter was gone. There was a rustling of robes and he realized that the Death Eaters were retreating to the edges of the room. Remus could smell the acrid fear that rippled through the atmosphere. It was infectious, spreading throughout his body like a disease. He cracked his eyes open in trepidation.

Voldemort was breathing hard, wand out and pointed directly at Remus. His gaze was murderous, lethal. Remus had made a fatal mistake. He closed his eyes, accepting that this was the day he would die… he was relieved.

"Crucio," Voldemort said. His voice was quiet and deadly, beyond rage. Just before the curse hit, Remus understood. Before he died, his remaining sanity would be the price for his intrusion.

Distantly, Remus could hear his own screams, throat already torn from days and nights subjected to the excruciating pain. He convulsed in the torment. Screams gagged him, fractured into choking whimpers. He was suffocating, drowning. Then, a moment of respite, a breath of air. The Death Eaters were blurring into a single black entity; except one faded away, unnoticed. Voldemort's face was sickly white like the full moon against the wall of death. Then the pain came again, intensifying, wave after wave, eroding the last particles of his mind.

Time and space ceased to matter, and Remus could feel himself drifting deeper and deeper. The pain became a distant whine, in and out like a bad signal. All feeling seemed to be fading away, or maybe he was leaving it behind him, locking door after door as he descended into an abyss of stars…

 _One more lock and you'll be safe. One more, one more…_

But the pain stopped suddenly. Remus hesitated. Should he look back? The void in front of him was velvety and inviting. Like dark water. A pool of forgetting. Someone was calling his name. He sounded frantic, but Remus wondered if he was just imagining things. Why should he return? He longed for that endless blackness, where the moon never rose. He was on the line, thin as spider's silk. All it took was one more step...

"Moony, Please!"

 _Moony._ That meant something. Something important. He stumbled backwards, suddenly aware of how isolated the void was. He did not want to be alone…

Moony… that was his name… Remus never fought harder in his life. He took another step backwards. And another. And finally, finally, he looked back.

He found himself gazing upwards at a pair of blue eyes, not red. He was the one saying his name, ebony hair falling over his cheeks. Next to him was a small creature with huge ears, a creature that bizarrely made him think about the taste of hot chocolate. And behind the odd pair, a man with messy hair and glasses was standing tall and defiant, their fortress against the Dark.

"Now!" someone nearby shouted.

 _Padfoot?_ Remus realized who was staring at him. Feet rushed towards them, a streak of green light soared through the air, but they were gone in a rush of color fading to black.


	9. Moony's Midnight (Sirius)

Hi there dear readers!

Thank you so much your reviews! We're back to Sirius POV for this chapter. Let me know what you think!

-Cat

(Also, for those of you observing/celebrating this week, Happy Easter/Passover!)

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Chapter 9

 _Moony's Midnight (Sirius)_

Sirius Black could count on one hand the times in his life when he had been truly terror-stricken. The time his father threatened to burn the dark mark onto his forearm against his will when he was sixteen; the first time Lily placed baby Harry in his arms, so small and fragile; moment when Peter came to tell him that James was in St. Mungo's and they were desperately looking for a cure for a poison he'd accidentally ingested.

And now there was another to add to his list: When a silvery doe floated into the Kent Cottage and said into the sudden silence, " _Scrap the plan. Bring the elf and attack now, before it's too late. Dumbledore and Moody on the way._ "

All subtlety dropped, the four wizards and the house elf had exploded through the wards of Malfoy Manor and broke down the front door. They followed the sound of tortured cries to a large, high-ceilinged room. A brief second of Auror training kicked in as Sirius catalogued the details of the room. Voldemort stood in the center, snake-like face contorted. The walls were lined with shrinking Death Eaters, who stared at the writhing body on the ground, thin limbs and sandy-brown hair… Remus.

He froze, but Dumbledore swept on like a hurricane, toppling the Death Eaters like trees. Moody engaged Bellatrix and Macnair in a duel; James roared in rage and charged Voldemort, blasting Lucius Malfoy aside as he passed. But Sirius was suddenly on autopilot, hexes thrown only to plow to Remus' side, vaguely aware of Della clinging to his cloak.

Finally he collapsed to his knees, heart in his throat and rolled his friend's still body onto his back. Remus' dull brown eyes were glazed and staring without seeing. "No, no, no, come on Remus," Sirius gasped, holding his palm over Remus' open mouth. Nothing...

Then a soft, warm breath ghosted into his hand.

"Yes! Moony, can you hear me? You need to come back!" He waved his hand across Remus' eyes, but they did not react.

"Remus!" he shouted over the battle. "Remus, wake up!" He tried shaking him, horrified at the sharp bones he could feel beneath the ragged clothing. "Damn it! Remus, come on!" Nothing. Desperately, Sirius looked around for James; James would know what to do, he always did. But James was locked in a duel with Voldemort, driving him back with impressive force. Voldemort's curses almost seemed to bounce off of him. Sirius turned back to the werewolf curled on the ground.

"Moony, please!" he begged. Something shifted behind the misted gaze. Remus blinked, then looked at Sirius. There was nothing there, only emptiness. Air evacuated Sirius' lungs, fear smothered him. _Oh god, we're too late…_

"Now!" Moody shouted nearby. James and Dumbledore rushed towards them. Sirius grabbed Remus' cold hand, felt Della's hand close on his shoulder. Curses were shouted, but Sirius did not hear them. The crushing tube of apparation enveloped them and Sirius felt his heart stop when Remus' eyes flooded with recognition, then fluttered closed.

That had been five days ago.

Remus Lupin was still lying in a sectioned-off area of the hospital wing of Hogwarts, deeply unconscious. It had been decided that Hogwarts would be safer for the werewolf than St. Mungo's. Madame Pomfrey consulted experts at the wizarding hospital, but she could not get him to wake. The superficial cuts and bruises were healed and his face had been cleaned lovingly by Della, who was a constant presence. He wore light blue pajamas and could have been sleeping if it were not for the unearthly stillness. Remus had always been a heavy sleeper, but never like this.

"He needs time to heal," Dumbledore explained to Sirius, James, and Lily in a soft voice. "What he went through at Malfoy Manor would have snapped a lesser wizard's sanity in mere hours. I cannot predict the extent of the damage Remus' mind has sustained."

This had sent James into one of his quiet moods. He exited the hospital wing without a word, returning hours later with his hair tousled and cheeks pink from the cold. Sirius assumed he borrowed one of the school brooms. Lily was tearful, but firmly blinked them away. She was in Hogwarts daily, Harry on her hip or toddling at her feet. When he first visited, he had peered thoughtfully at the comatose Remus and softly said, "Moomy is sweepy."

Lily shakily replied, "Yes, baby. We have to help him wake up." Every time they came, Harry would regularly check on Remus, uncharacteristically serious when he stretched on wobbly tiptoe and touched the cold hand on the sheets.

Sirius was in complete denial.

"He recognized me," he insisted. "He knew who I was, I saw it."

Inside, his thoughts were jammed like a broken clock. He replayed bursting into the room of Death Eaters over and over again. Constantly, he imagined Remus' dull eyes light with recognition, praying it was true. And he could not silence the voice that refrained, " _I did this. I did this."_

After his rescue, Remus had some visitors. Most were the few order members that were brave enough to face the remaining Marauders after the long months of suspicion. Sirius noted with interest that McGonagall's stern mask wavered when she saw Remus in the bed he occupied so often as a student. Hagrid was teary-eyed and brought home-made rock cakes, which remained untouched on the bedside table. Mad-Eye was gruff but gave them some bolstering words. Mundungus said, "Always liked the bloke. S'too bad."

"He's not dead," Sirius hissed.

"'E's not gettin' better though, is he?"

Lily had to hold Sirius back so that Dung would leave the hospital wing with his nose still intact. Alice and Frank Longbottom, little Neville in tow, had been kind and sympathetic. Frank even brought a bar of the best Honeyduke's chocolate for when Remus woke. Both had left with haunted expressions. Even Peeves floated into the hospital wing. This was actually because he was hiding whoopie cushions under the neatly made bedspreads, but he had the decency not to sing, "Loony, loopy, Lupin," as he placed them. He left with a small salute in the direction of Remus' bed.

A more memorable visit had been unplanned but morbidly enlightening. Dumbledore was conversing lightly with Lily at Remus' bedside when Snape arrived with a report. Snape stared stonily at Sirius and James, but barely glanced at Lily. Lily's glare promised Sirius a painful death if he said anything untoward, so he bit his tongue and listened.

"How has he reacted?" Dumbledore asked quickly.

"Lucius and Pettigrew bore the brunt of his...disappointment." Snape actually winced as he said this. "I have never seen him so angry. Whatever Lupin did, the Dark Lord will not stop until he is dead."

"What did he do?"

Snape twitched in irritation at being addressed by James, but still answered. "I don't know." The next words were delicate, as if Snape was actually trying to spare his childhood enemy from something unpleasant. "The Dark Lord was...brutal in his examination of Lupin, but the werewolf is a cleverer Occlumens than he expected. Whatever he gleaned from his mind were trivial diversions from real Order secrets. The day I called you, Lupin did something while fighting him, something that caused Voldemort to...slip. It lasted seconds before Lupin was blasted backwards, but Voldemort was so angry he lost all control."

Sirius shuddered and subconsciously checked on their friend, pale and still as marble beneath the sheets. James swallowed hard. Dumbledore's face was grave. "It is fortunate that you were able to contact us as soon as you did."

Snape looked doubtful when he spared the still man on the bed a glance. When he left, Sirius punched the wall with all his strength.

* * *

The seventh day was a new moon. As Sirius had predicted, his and Remus' shared flat had been broken into the night before. It was a mess, the door hanging off its hinges, his possessions strewn across the floor and broken. He was called into the office early by Moody to assess his dismantled apartment. That day was a boring routine of cataloging damages and scrubbing the place for any magical trace of the perpetrators. There was none.

By the evening, Sirius was in his office staring at the same page of paperwork, the lines blurring together. _This is useless. Nothing valuable was damaged anyway_. The taste of black coffee burned on his taste-buds, but his brain was still fuzzy with exhaustion. So he left. As he stomped through the atrium, a few ministry workers muttered their condolence about his property. Sirius satisfied himself by completely ignoring these. No one had given him condolences when his friend went missing. Hot anger began to rise at this thought, as well as renewed desperation. He quickened his pace. His emotions had been high all week and he was liable to snap at the next person who interrupted his walk to the apparition point. But when an oily drawl carried across the Fountain of Magical Brethren to his ears, Sirius stopped dead.

"...Of course I'd be delighted to come to your dinner party, Mr. Umbridge. I'm afraid I'll have a great deal of free time while they Department of Magical Law Enforcement investigates these unfounded accusations."

"Pity, Lucius. The Ministry will miss you this month."

"I know. Fortunately I can continue some of my work for the Minister's office from home. And of course, my donations are independent of my treatment during this investigation."

"Generous as always, Lucius."

Sirius' blood boiled. He spun on the spot and stomped around the Fountain. The sight of Lucius Malfoy's platinum blond hair was enough to make his head spin with rage.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing here?" Sirius said loudly. The squat, ugly wizard that Malfoy was speaking to looked stunned. Several witches and wizards in the vicinity hurried away, having heard of the notorious Black temper. A few stopped and stared openly.

"You might want to watch your tongue around here, Black," Malfoy said silkily. "You'll build yourself a bad reputation."

Sirius drew his wand. "I should stun you and drag you to Azkaban right now," he hissed.

"With no due process? That is hardly just, Black. In fact, the suggestion is incredibly rash. How can anyone trust your accusations?"

"Three eye-witness accounts can back my statement," Sirius retorted.

"Of course, you've already made that quite clear earlier this week," Malfoy said with a sneer. "And the court has decided to give me a month's probation pending further investigation. It was just decided."

Sirius' limbs went numb. _The court had decided_...he was supposed to be there for the decision! "They can't have-"

"They moved the date of my hearing. But then, you would not have heard, since you were busy with your flat," Malfoy taunted. "Unfortunate timing."

Sirius had no doubt who orchestrated the events of the morning. Malfoy had given them the slip. With a roar of rage, Sirius yelled, "Incarcerous!"

Black ropes flew from his wand, writhing in the air. Umbridge scrambled backwards. But another spell shot from across the Atrium. The ropes burned into ashes in midair, only a few stray sparks reaching Malfoy, whose wand was halfway out.

"Expelliarmus!" Sirius said with a flick of his wand. Malfoy's went sailing over his head. Sirius advanced, ignoring the shouts that were filling the Atrium.

"Black! Stand down!" The gruff boom of his superior halted Sirius' actions. Mad-Eye Moody was limping speedily towards him, followed by Rufus Scrimgeour, who was a few years his senior in the auror corps.

"They let him off," Sirius said, breathing hard. His ears were ringing. "The cowards let him go with barely a slap on the wrist."

"And you're just making things worse," Moody growled. His beady black eye shot to Malfoy. "Get lost, Malfoy, before I cite you for loitering."

Malfoy turned his nose up in a dignified manner and picked up his wand. He ostentatiously straightened his robes, then swept past them, pausing only to whisper under his breath, "Watch out for your pet monster, Black. If the Dark Lord finds him, he'll vivisect the beast."

Sirius lunged, but Moody's strong grip held him back. "Enough," he ordered. Malfoy's footsteps receded and awkward conversations started across the Atrium. Sirius jerked his arm away from Moody.

"That sodding-"

"No one is denying that Malfoy is an ass." Moody turned to Scrimgeour and muttered, "I'll catch up. Let me handle this."

"You don't need to handle me."

"On the contrary, I should suspend you for that little show, Black."

Sirius raised an eyebrow at Moody. His temper was cooling back into the regular hum of anxious depression. Moody sighed.

"Which I won't, because you're one of our best and we need you right now. But listen to your head for once, Black." Moody emphasized his point by slapping the back of Sirius' skull.

"And what is my head, saying?" Sirius grumbled, smoothing his hair.

Moody's magical blue eye whizzed around in his socket. He leaned closer and murmured, "That the Ministry is slipping out of our hands. We won't be backed by the government in this war for much longer. Drawing attention like that only makes you a target."

"You're being paranoid," Sirius said quietly. But uncertainty fluttered in his chest.

"Maybe," said Moody, louder. "But it's my job."

"Right." Sirius glanced at the Fountain of Magical Brethren bubbling obliviously next to them, feeling morose. Aurors were falling left and right, the Ministry was losing its grip on justice, and Remus would not wake up. Whatever hope he used to have was hanging by a thread right now. Moody's blue eye x-rayed him, making him feel vulnerable.

"You should go to your friend, Black."

"Yeah," he mumbled. "Bye."

Sirius shoved his wand in his pocket and plodded away. Once he reached the apparation point, he disappeared, reappearing in front of the gates of Hogwarts. Frost covered grass crunched under Sirius' boots as he made his way up to the castle. With a low layer of clouds covering the stars, it was almost completely black outside. He clenched the fist he had used to punch the hospital wing wall a couple days ago. The newly mended bones that formed knuckles and fingers still ached, but the cold felt good.

Lily was waiting in the hospital wing, her soothing alto voice reading aloud from _Hogwarts, A History_. Sirius would have laughed at her if he were not so drained. Lately, he could not bring himself to sleep, even when he was not taking a shift sitting with Remus or at work. And now the confrontation with Malfoy made him feel utterly despondent. He walked up the aisles of beds to the wall of white curtains separating Remus from the rest of the school. A lamp glowed, making it look like some kind of large lantern. He pulled aside the curtains and sank down in the seat next to Lily, who gave him a strained smile. She left quietly, brushing Remus' shoulder as she went. As soon as he heard the doors close, he turned back to his friend.

"Malfoy is an ass and the Ministry is fucked up," he sighed. He massaged the bridge of his nose wearily. Somewhere, he needed to find the strength to be positive for Remus. "And there is no way in hell I'm reading you that book, Moony," he confided weakly. "Or reading aloud from any book. I hope you understand, but that is just not my style. Full moon mornings I used to just sit here and...I don't know. Plan pranks. Decide whether or not to go to class. No book-reading." He sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. "What happened to us?"

No answer was forthcoming. Sirius grinned wryly to himself, thinking of their first year when they were so stupid and young and brilliant all at the same time. It seemed like a good place to start, so he reminisced aloud about their clumsy first pranks ("Remember turning the Slytherin's hair pink? We got the spell wrong and we got the whole school, even the professors…"); becoming animagi ("I still can't get the taste of that Mandrake leaf out of my mouth."); and full moons ("And by that point you had transformed, so Prongs was completely stuck, his antlers too large to get out of the closet. He had to spend the whole night there!"). It was an easy way to pass the time, if a little depressing. He avoided any mention of Peter and fervently hoped that Madame Pomfrey was not listening.

"...and Lily's face! She was so shocked that James had just walked away, without even attempting to ask her out. I think that's when she started to fall for him, when she realized that he could just walk away. You don't know what you've got until you've lost it. James and Lily disagree with me of course. _They_ think it was the time-"

Sirius cut himself off abruptly. He thought he heard a rustling. Frozen, he strained his ears, his mind conjuring images of Death Eaters sneaking down the rows of beds. His eyes flicked to the wand on the bedside table, about a meter away. Close enough. His heart pounded. No movement and then-

Something brushed his hand.

His finely honed Auror instincts failed him as he stared down, wide-eyed. Remus' fingers were moving.

"Holy…" Sirius breathed.

Remus' inhale changed. It was deeper, no longer faint. His eyelids were fluttering, blinking, then open, irises almost golden in the lamplight. Amidst his awe, Sirius felt a tremor of fear. What if Dumbledore and Snape were right?

"Remus?" His voice was small and timid, nothing like the confident Sirius Black bluster.

The bleary gaze flickered to him and locked onto his face. Sirius held his breath. A host of emotions roiled in Remus' eyes, primarily pain and fear.

Sirius grasped the cold hand. "You're okay, Remus. You're safe." _He recognized me. He knew who I was._ And then Remus' expression cleared.

"Sirius?" he mouthed. The only noise was a small susurration of air, but Sirius felt a hundred pounds fall from his shoulders. Without looking away, Sirius grasped his wand and waved it. The bell over Madame Pomfrey's door tinkled. As the matron's footsteps approached, Sirius could only stare. The curtains _ssshhhed_ open.

"Black, if this is another one of your- _Merlin's beard!_ " Pomfrey exclaimed. Slowly, Remus moved his gaze to her, looking confused.

"Remus," she started again, gently. "Do you know where you are?"

Eyes roved over the ceiling, the white curtains, the metal bed frame. His brow furrowed and the effort to come up with an answer looked exhausting. Sirius was about to speak up when Remus mouthed, "Hogwarts."

"Good, dear. Let's get you some water."

Sirius helped Remus sit up. With a tenderness only reserved for her favorite patient, Madame Pomfrey held a straw to his lips. He took a few sips, then leaned back onto Sirius, breathing shallowly and watching the matron.

"Madame Pomfrey," Remus whispered in realization. Still, barely a sound passed his lips.

"That's right, dear." She wiped her eyes swiftly. "And your vocal chords will mend. I've been waiting for you to wake to administer a potion to speed up the process." She silently summoned a bottle of watery, sage-colored liquid. This too, Remus drank through a straw. By the time he finished, Sirius could feel him shaking with fatigue. Sirius lowered him back onto the pillows.

His lips moved again, shaping, "Hogwarts," a second time.

"That's right, Remus," Madame Pomfrey said, her voice soft and sad. "You're in Hogwarts. You're safe."

Remus' eyes slipped closed.

"Get some rest Moony," Sirius murmured. He lowered him gently onto the pillows. He did not think Remus heard him, because he was already unconscious.

"I should tell the Headmaster," Madame Pomfrey said shakily. Sirius nodded, unable to speak. His knees buckled and he collapsed into the chair. Remus recognized him. Remus was alive and sane enough to recognize Sirius Black. Sirius would have punched the air and whooped if he were not in the hospital wing. Pushing away tiny doubts, Sirius quickly conjured a Patronus to send to James and Lily. With the waves of relief lapping against his chest, it was one of the easiest Patronuses he had ever produced.

* * *

James and Lily arrived only ten minutes after Sirius sent his Patronus, running in with Harry right behind Dumbledore. Sirius popped out of the curtains, grinning.

"He knew me!" He was ecstatic. James' mouth was gaping.

"It's true," Madame Pomfrey confirmed. "It took some time to recognize his surroundings and myself, but those came as well. I believe that it is safe to say that Mr. Lupin escaped the worst of the damage." She chewed on her lower lip, hesitating.

"But?" James prompted.

"Oh, nothing," she said airily. "I'll keep you updated on his progress."

Remus did not wake again until the late afternoon sun was painting the floor gold the next day. Sirius was still there; Mad-Eye covered his auror duties for the day. His light doze was interrupted by James. His friend was sitting on the other side of Remus' bed. His sharp, "Sirius," made his eyes snap open. Remus was stirring, face scrunching slightly as he pulled himself to consciousness.

"Take it easy, Moony," Sirius encouraged. With a patience that he did not know he possessed, he waited until Remus' eyes glittered behind his eyelashes. His body tensed, but as his eyes surveyed golden-lit hospital wing, he relaxed.

"'Lo, Padfoot," he whispered. His voice was raspy, but at least it was audible.

"Good to see you in the land of the living. Look who else is here."

Remus moved his head on the pillow. James smiled widely, but his shoulders were rigid.

"Prongs, you look s'tired," Remus slurred. All tension fled James' strained muscles.

"You gave us quite a scare, Moony," he said shakily. "Besides, compared to you I look fresh as a daisy." But he did look tired. Hell, they all did.

"Hmmm," Remus hummed. He blinked slowly. "What happened?"

Sirius glanced at James, feeling very uncertain. Deciding to err on the side of caution, he asked, "What do you remember?"

Remus frowned. When he spoke next it was a hesitant rasp. "It's not… It's all kind of… fragmented." He was quiet for a moment, staring at the ceiling. He swallowed hard, clearly trying to overcome some obstacle. Then Sirius saw a flash of panic, quickly replaced by a blank look. "He was...angry. But then there's nothing. I can't…"

"That's okay," James soothed quickly. "You don't need to try and remember right now. What matters is that we came and got you."

Remus bit his lip. His pale hands gripped the sheets, twisting them. He shook his head slightly. "Not okay," he breathed. He sounded scared, different. He did not sound like Remus. "Everything's fragmented, everything...not just... things aren't in the right place…"

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked carefully. _Don't push him._

"I had to… disorganize my head a little. I just… need some time to put things back where they belong, that's all," Remus said. He seemed reluctant to say more.

"It's okay," Sirius replied. _That's normal_ , he told himself, _he suffered a lot. No one would be able to escape unscathed._ With a rush of regret, Sirius recalled the months before Halloween night, the months of distrust, their bonds dissolving. _I did this_.

The werewolf's blinks were becoming longer, more frequent. James put a hand over Remus' white-knuckled fist.

"Relax, Moony. We're just relieved to have you back. We missed you like hell."

"Missed you too," he mumbled sleepily. His eyes slipped shut for a few seconds. Just when Sirius concluded that he had fallen asleep, he whispered one more thing.

"What did he say?"

James stared down at the now-unconscious man in the bed, stricken.

"'Where's Peter?'" he repeated into the hush of the hospital wing.


	10. The Tree of Life (Lily)

Happy Tuesday! I have no real comments on this chapter, just that the journey has only just started. And thank you for your reviews. Seriously. They keep me writing :) (Also the fact that I've had a lot of free time lately that I really should be filling with other things but...I like doing this more)

\- Cat

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Chapter 10

 _The Tree of Life (Lily)_

"How could he forget something like that?! The rat's the reason he's lying there half-dead!"

"He is _not_ half-dead. And it's hard to re-create a new reality based on that kind of revelation when you've been tortured and unconscious for days. He's adjusting, Mr. Black."

"But Peter was _there_! He was there just watching, doing nothing. Surely Remus knew that it was him, that he was the traitor."

"Give him time."

"The bastard stood there and watched!"

"He is _traumatized_ , Mr. Black! Remus still has things that he will need to overcome. Recognition at this stage is good, but his mental state could be… fragile for a while."

"So fix it!"

"Healing the body is my specialty. Healing the mind is much more complicated."

"He said he had to 'disorganize' himself," James said softly, interrupting Sirius' rantings and Madame Pomfrey's reasonings. Lily felt herself shudder at her husband's statement. James was sitting on a hospital bed, bouncing Harry on his knee. Harry was giggling and waving his hands, but James was distant, brow furrowed. Next to Dumbledore, Severus shifted. She was proud of both her husband and Severus for being civil for the entire meeting. Even Sirius had only spared Snape a single loathing stare, choosing to berate Madame Pomfrey instead.

"Could you help us understand what he meant, Severus?" Dumbledore asked. The Headmaster, normally strong despite his exhaustion, appeared fragile. Snape looked like he would rather do anything else, but he obliged.

"Occlumency is...complex," he began carefully. "From what I could see, Lupin has a elementary priming in the field, but not enough to actually block Voldemort. From the beginning, the Dark Lord was able to access his thoughts and memories, but not the ones he wanted. Lupin could not block him, so I think he misled him."

"Misled?" Lily whispered.

Snape grimaced, shooting the closed curtains around Remus' bed an almost sympathetic look. "I believe that Lupin deliberately pulled his mind apart." Sirius flinched. "It would have been almost easy, after so many assaults on his thoughts, to let things come… unglued. Instead of resynthesizing them, he allowed them to remain in pieces. It would not have stopped the Dark Lord from getting the information he wanted, but it would have made his search much more difficult. Without chronology and vital connections, focused and logical Legilimency becomes obsolete. The pool of random particles of self make the search infinitely longer, like finding a needle in a pile of needles. And with the addition of the cruciatus…" Snape trailed away.

"What?" Sirius asked sharply. "With the addition of the cruciatus, what?"

"It's impressive that Lupin is even able to speak, let alone recognize you and Potter."

Lily's insides rebelled against the idea of purposely unwinding her identity. Sirius looked physically ill and James' bouncing leg froze. Only Madame Pomfrey and Dumbledore appeared unsurprised, merely saddened to hear it spoken out loud.

"Will he be able to put himself back?"

Snape's black eyes flickered to Lily for the first time since he entered the hospital wing, but he did not answer. Instead, Dumbledore spoke, folding his hands in his large sleeves.

"Mr. Lupin has an extraordinary will, as demonstrated by his time as Voldemort's prisoner. He can recover if he chooses to."

"If he chooses to?" James asked. His speech sounded painful.

"Choice is a powerful thing, James," Dumbledore said. "Remus has a hard road before him. Healing the mind is not easy. It could be very painful. Not physically so, but painful for the soul." The old man paused. His next words held quiet intensity. "But love is a powerful thing as well. He will need his friends."

"He should stay with us," Lily said immediately. James and Sirius agreed fervently.

"He won't like the charity, but we owe this to him," Sirius said.

"I'll tell him that it's for his protection," Dumbledore assured them. "It will not be a lie. It seems that Remus has become the priority on Voldemort's agenda. In fact, I have instructed Lyall Lupin to go into hiding as well." Dumbledore scanned them all, fixing them with a look. "Perhaps it would be best if Voldemort believed that Remus is indeed...incapacitated by his captivity. It might dampen his zeal to find him."

"So...pretend he-that he was beyond help? Insane?" James asked. His tone was disgusted. "How could you even-"

"It was my idea, Potter," Snape said suddenly. Sirius rounded on Snape looking mutinous.

"How dare you?! Just because you hated him as kids-"

"I agree with Severus, Sirius," Dumbledore interrupted quietly. "It will give Remus time to heal. But it is not a pleasant rumor to spread, I'm afraid. Especially for Remus. The public will not take kindly to the idea of a mentally unstable werewolf," he lamented. But Lily could see their reasoning.

"He'll hate this," Sirius murmured, but brooked no more argument.

"He'll be safer this way. For now, only the people in this room will know of Remus' true state of health."

Lily stared around at James, Sirius, and Snape. She felt that something was not quite adding up about Voldemort's new fixation on Remus. What about her son? Had Voldemort forgotten about the prophecy? Afraid of the answer, she did not voice her thoughts. Instead she asked Madame Pomfrey when Remus could be moved back to the cottage.

"Once I'm satisfied with his physical recovery," the matron replied, business-like again. "I need to check how the nerve-damage has healed. When his periods of consciousness lengthen to about two hours thrice a day, he may go. Any longer and the students will start to get suspicious. And no more visitors besides you three!"

* * *

Remus knew Lily immediately when he woke next. He gave her a small smile. It was frightening how deadened his eyes were in contrast to the expression. But when he saw that Harry was there, some tightness left the skin around his eyes.

"Hullo cub," he said softly. The flat irises gave way to the soft chocolate brown and he let Harry sit on his mattress.

Lily purposely kept the conversation easy, centered around Harry's latest developmental accomplishments. These Harry excitedly demonstrated, burbling in baby language mixed with actual words.

"He can walk too," she said, placing Harry on his unsteady feet. Harry immediately toddled to the bedstand, hand reaching for the potions that glinted in the sun streaming through the window.

"Oh no you don't!" Lily scooped him back up and placed him on his lap. She rolled her eyes. "He gets into about as much trouble as his father."

Remus' lips lifted, but it only lasted seconds. He looked down at his hands with a blank expression. Lily studied him. He had always been a fairly reticent conversationalist in the past, preferring to listen and ask questions than to give information. But usually he enjoyed talking about the Marauders' mischief.

"Remus?"

"Yes?" His voice had become fragile.

Lily bit her lip, wondering if her next question would be a good idea. Gently, she put a hand on his limp ones. He blinked hard and looked at her. Inhaling, she said, "You don't have to answer. But how is everything?"

He seemed to understand what she meant by 'everything.' His mouth opened, but not a sound came out. After a moment, he managed a single word. "Peter."

He looked so lost. Lily's heart broke. "He's not coming, Remus."

Remus' breath hitched. "He's not the only thing that's gone." He leaned back into his pillows. His last statement was barely above a whisper. "Everything's not fine."

When Remus fell back asleep, his face remained tight with distress.

The next few days were difficult. Remus was not sick, but he was dangerously thin and weak. His last full meal was the leftovers that Lily made him the night he told them he was leaving. Despite this long fast from food, they had to coax him into eating the flavorless soups Madame Pomfrey prepared. She would not let him eat solid food yet. It did not help that the daily potions to heal his nerves made him nauseous.

Walking and sitting up took a great deal of energy. Madame Pomfrey patiently explained to her frustrated patient that he would need to rebuild the strength. James and Sirius were both encouraging and boisterous as they helped Remus up and down the hospital wing hallway. Remus was quiet. He did not speak about Peter again.

It took him four days to meet the physical threshold that Madame Pomfrey had set. The day that Pomfrey declared Remus fit for travel, a bedroom magically appeared at the end of the downstairs hall in the Kent cottage. It was simple and clean, with a bed, a window, and an empty bookshelf.

"It's too bad about his books," Lily said as she and Sirius explored the new room. James was with Remus. Sirius looked momentarily confused about her statement. Lily almost laughed at him. He had clearly forgotten about the ransacking of his apartment in the rush of events.

"Oh, right, the raid. Um, actually they weren't there."

Lily raised her eyebrows.

"They weren't?"

 _I swear to Merlin, Sirius Black, if you and your temper burned them when he left…_

"No, I have them."

"You have them?" Lily repeated incredulously. Sirius gave her a wry half-smile.

"What did you think I did to them?"

"Nothing," Lily said quickly, but she could feel her cheeks warming. Sirius smirked and left the room. She heard his heavy footsteps stomping around next-door, then he returned. In his hand he held a miniature cardboard box. He placed it on the bed and pointed his wand at it.

"Engorgio."

The box grew to a larger size and the flaps popped open. A rainbow of spines peeked out, along with the smell of paper and ink.

"You surprise me, Padfoot."

"I'm not always a reckless idiot," he responded genially. "Actually I was going to leave it with you and James before everything happened. Remove the temptation to destroy them in a fit of rage."

"Ah. So I was not far from the mark."

"Not really." He shrugged and began to lift out the different titles and place them haphazardly on the shelf. Lily rolled her eyes and organized them the way Remus liked: by subject first then alphabetical by author's last name.

"Lily?"

"Yes?"

"He won't talk."

Lily studied her husband's best friend, who was avoiding her gaze, lifting more books out of the box. Sirius was not an easy person to understand the first try. Since she started dating James when they were seventeen, she discovered that the man had layers that most of the school had never seen. She was getting better at figuring out his moods and seemingly irrational behavior, but there depths to him that rarely saw the light.

"He won't talk about Voldemort?" she clarified.

"That. And the werewolf colonies. Greyback. Anything. He's trying to put things back together, I know that. But he's pushing us out. He only says what he needs to. Sometimes he just sits there without moving and…" His voice trailed away. He placed the last book on the shelf and Lily subconsciously moved it to the right spot. "I don't know how to help him understand that we're here for him," he finished.

"Why do you think he doesn't understand?"

"Because we weren't before," he answered. Then he corrected himself. "I wasn't before."

She thought for a moment, checking the clock on the wall. They would need to be at Hogwarts in ten minutes. She should wake Harry from his nap. She breathed deeply through her nose and tried to put her thoughts into words.

"It's too soon. Give him some time, show him you're there. Tell him. Eventually things will heal enough to be said out loud."

"Right." Sirius vanished the box, looking dejected. "Let's go."

Harry was sitting up in his crib when Lily went in to get him. He held out pudgy hands to her and mewled, "Mummy." She lifted him out and balanced him on a hip. He lay his head on her shoulder, spiky black hair brushing her cheek. Sirius held the door for her.

"Hey there Prongslet," he said.

"Pafu," Harry replied.

"That's right. Let's go get Moony."

"Moom sweepy."

"Yeah. Moony's sleepy. But he'll wake up."

* * *

Life at the Kent Cottage developed a new routine. Lily was always the first awake. She would set a kettle to boil for tea and slice pieces of bread to toast. She fried eggs the muggle way, the way her mother used to. Eventually, Sirius would enter with an energetic good morning, followed by James cursing all morning-people under his breath. James liked his tea black with a small splash of milk. Sirius would down two cups of coffee. Then James would kiss her deeply and go to work with Sirius.

Lily was glad that James had decided to return to work. He was much less morose and came home satisfied that he had done his part to fight dark magic for the day. But a piece of her knew that the reason he kissed her so deeply was because he was afraid something would happen to him on the job.

Lily and Harry would start their day once James and Sirius were gone. She did extensive research at home for St. Mungo's, looking into new cures and potions. Harry would play in her office while she worked. Later in the morning, Remus would slowly make his way to the kitchen. Lily usually heard him get up and prepared a cup of tea for him as well, the first of many the werewolf would consume throughout the day. She would try to get him to eat something, which was sometimes successful. They would make small talk. Then Remus would settle in her office. A comfortable armchair was set up for him by the bay of windows that looked out into the garden. He was genuinely delighted to discover the shelf of his books when he arrived. The smile that graced his face was like a breath of fresh air. He spent most of his time reading and re-reading anything he could get his hands on, even Lily's muggle novels.

Today, five days since coming home, his nose was buried deep in a copy of _Hogwarts, A History_. Lily smiled, wondering if he knew that this was her choice to read to him in the hospital wing. She doubted it. The book held a certain sentimental value for them both. As fellow book-enthusiasts, it was the first book they ever bonded over first year. And of course, it was the tale of the place that became a home for all wizarding students.

He was still quiet. Sadly, Lily did not know if this was new since his rescue, or if it had developed before then. Their time together had been dwindling long before his captivity. Sometimes while he was reading, he would stop and stare at something only he could see. Other times, he would close his eyes. She looked up from her current research on effects of long-term Cruciatus exposure (a recent interest of hers), to see that he was lost in one of those moments again. Sunlight filtered onto his face, showing that his eyes were moving beneath his eyelids. Madame Pomfrey had taught her how to watch for heightened anxiety or panic. But his breathing was even, so Lily waited. When his head lowered to the page again, she spoke.

"Where do you go when you do that?"

He scratched his eyebrow self-consciously as he said, in a voice that was still hoarse, "It's a kind of meditation. Madame Pomfrey suggested it, that I take time to examine any memories that come up during the day."

"That is smart of her," Lily said.

"Yes, it is," he sighed. "Just gets… repetitive."

She studied him. He was making gradual progress in his healing. It was becoming easier for him to keep up with Harry as the toddler reveled in his new-found ability to explore on foot. He was remembering more. 'Putting things back into place' as he expressed it. He was even able to make a report to Dumbledore about his final days with Greyback's pack. They learned how he knew to come to the Potters' residence on Halloween. But he was distant. Emotionally, his progress was much slower. Lily recalled what Dumbledore said about choice. And how having loved ones close makes it easier.

"How are you?" she probed. It was a question generally avoided by James and Sirius lately. She knew that they wanted to give their friend space, but _honestly_.

He sighed again and gave her an annoyed look. He knew could not lie to her. "Right now I'm fine."

"Right now."

"Yes. I'm usually fine. But then…" He paused. Lily's heart rate quickened, praying both that he would continue and that he wouldn't. She waited, her tongue frozen. "Then suddenly I'm not. And I'm still missing pieces of myself. What if they never come back?"

"They will," she said automatically. Then she immediately hoped that it was not an empty reassurance.

"What if there's a part of me stopping them?" he continued as if she had not spoken. He did not seem to notice the tremor that ran through his left hand. "Some of the more painful things..." The implication was clear.

"You are not a coward, Remus Lupin."

"Just a mentally unstable dark creature that has to be hidden from the world for people's safety," he said with a wry expression. Lily winced. "Which might be true." He said it so softly, she almost missed it.

"It isn't," she said firmly. He started, clearly not realizing he had said the last statement out loud. "You are not broken, Remus. You are healing and those gaps are normal. Be patient with yourself."

He did not respond. His gaze wandered down to the book on his lap. There was a long pause. Lily thought he was reading again, but he did not turn the page.

"Is there… anything else?" she asked.

"Did I...did I ever keep a journal in Hogwarts?"

It was an odd question. _Does he think that he could figure out those gaps from a journal?_

"Not that I know of," she said. "Sirius or James might be able to answer that."

"No. I'm quite certain I didn't. But I have this image…or a feeling… It doesn't fit right, is all. Forget it."

"Okay." She had no intention of forgetting it.

"Don't tell them I asked."

"Why not?"

His fingers twitched in consternation. "They'll try to _mother_ me. I think they suspect, but they don't fully understand how much I'm missing. I haven't told anyone besides Madame Pomfrey. And you."

"You're missing a lot, then?" she pressed.

"Yes." He ran a hand across the pages in his lap, finding some comfort in the fine toothed texture of the paper. "I know Peter betrayed us," he added. "Despite was Sirius and James think, I do understand that. I just don't want to deal with that right now. Or them." He winced after adding those two words, regretting saying them to her. Lily's heart sank. So he did remember the sneaking suspicions and unsaid accusations of his closest friends. "I mean they worry too much," he covered quickly. It was feeble, but Lily let it pass.

"I worry," she said frankly.

He looked relieved to leave the subject behind them. "Yes you do. But you can handle it. You're not emotionally stunted like those two dunderheads."

Startled, Lily laughed. It had been ages since she had heard Remus' dry humor. And to her delight, he joined her, chuckling softly. Harry, noticing the cue, bounced in his playpen, giggling uproariously in the way babies do. It was like the sun had come out from behind the clouds for the first time in ages. The room was noticeably brighter.

"Thank you, Lily," Remus said. "For listening."

"Not a problem," she said warmly, amazed that he had said so much. Yet there was something still haunting him, something still unsaid. Remus was a private soul. Sharing did not come naturally and she was gratified that he had opened himself even the smallest bit to her. But there were some things that were meant for other ears. She inhaled deeply before deciding to speak her mind.

"You know, James and Sirius would die for you."

His expression became serious. "I know."

"You haven't told me everything."

No denial. The way his hands tightened on _Hogwarts, A History_ was confirmation enough.

"Whatever you're holding back, they can handle. And you'll need to let it out eventually, before it eats you from the inside out. You won't be able to move on from this until you do."

"I'm not ready," he whispered.

"One day, you will be."

Harry started to whimper, breaking the silence that settled. It was nearly his lunchtime. Lily started to stand, regretfully looking at the work she had not finished.

"I've got it," Remus said quietly. "You should get back to your research." He carefully scooped up little Harry and limped from the room. Lily listened to him murmur soothingly on the way to the kitchen. She sighed and returned to the book she had been skimming. After a few seconds of reading she shut it, a little more violently than she had intended. Hoping Remus had not heard, she switched to something lighter. She could not take any more of the Cruciatus curse today.

That night, the three Marauders, Harry, and Lily sat down for a dinner of chicken and green beans. Sirius critically observed every bite that Remus took, ensuring he ate the entire meal. James regaled them with a tale of enchanted micro-things that Arthur Weasley encountered ("Microwaves," Lily corrected), freezing muggles' food instead of warming it. The entire time his eyes flicked to Remus. He steadily increased the comedic language until Remus yielded a small smile. Lily rolled her eyes and decided to relieve them.

"Remus cracked a joke today," she said casually. Remus glared at her as James and Sirius snapped to attention.

"What was it about Moony?" Sirius demanded excitedly.

"Oh nothing," she said, watching her husband and his friend with glee. "Something about mother-hens."

James stared at her, trying and failing to figure it out. Sirius looked back and forth between Lily and Remus (who was now grinning in earnest). Concluding that neither would retell the joke, he grumbled and started cutting his chicken. Remus appeared relieved that his appetite was no longer under scrutiny. But the mother-hen comment seemed to have reminded him of their earlier conversation. Deep in thought, he studied his friends. Then he leaned over and whispered into her ear, "When I'm ready."

"Oi! What did he say?" Sirius barked in outrage.

"Nothing." Lily schooled her face into a smirk. As Remus pushed his food around the plate, she hoped that the day would come soon.

The dinner conversation eventually died. Sirius and James returned to their guarded study of their friend. Lily noticed with annoyance that neither said a word. She spilled a handful of cut green beans in front of Harry to distract herself. _Silence goes two ways._

* * *

"You're avoiding him."

"Wha-?" James' voice was garbled by the toothpaste in his mouth. But the guarded expression on his face told Lily that he knew exactly what she said.

"You heard me." He met her eyes in the mirror, shirtless back tense. He tried to keep his face neutral, but Lily could see the shame filling them. He leaned over and spit into the sink. Quietly, he rinsed the brush and his mouth. Finally, after drying his hands on the towel, her husband turned to face her.

"I'm not… we don't mean to," he said lamely. She crossed her arms across her chest and leaned against the door into the washroom.

"What are you meaning to do, exactly?" she demanded. He sighed and ruffled his hair. She felt a flash of irritation at the action, even though she knew it was subconscious.

"I don't know, Lils. Give him time?"

"He has time. He needs his brothers."

"I don't know, okay?" he snapped. He collapsed onto the closed toilet and buried his face in his hands. Lily was torn between anger and sympathy.

"He's lost, James! And he's hurt. Why is it so hard to be there for your friend?"

"We are there!" he said, his voice raising. "Besides work, we've been there the whole time! We're the ones who rescued him, who stayed by him in the hospital wing. We talk, tell stories-"

"You don't listen!" Lily interrupted.

"He's not talking to us!" James shouted. He shot up from the toilet and pushed into their bedroom. He forcefully pulled back the sheets from their king-sized bed and arranged the pillows with quick, violent movements. Lily bit her tongue to keep her temper in check and followed. She stood on her side of the bed and fixed him with a glare as he removed his glasses. Ignoring her, he thumped his body onto the mattress and faced away from her. The muscles in his back were taut.

Lily exhaled noisily and sat on the bed. There was a long silence, which she allowed so her temper could cool. Maybe anger was not the best way to solve this. Then, James spoke again, soft and upset.

"He's not talking to us."

Lily scooted closer to him and ran a hand through his messy hair. He slowly relaxed. She stamped down her pride and said, "I'm sorry for yelling."

"Me too," he sighed. "I'm just… scared. I don't understand what's going on inside his head. I don't know how to deal with this."

"No one does, James."

"But you seem to know. You know exactly what to say."

"I don't," she said truthfully. "I just have the courage to say it." She smiled slightly when his hair popped stubbornly back into its unruly position as she smoothed it. "This is starting to feel like a conversation I had with Sirius."

"He mentioned that."

"I'm not saying that Remus is ready to talk right now. He's still putting himself back together. But _you_ need to make sure that he knows you'll listen."

"I know." James was quiet for a moment, tracing a pattern on the sheet. "We hurt him."

"You did," Lily agreed. "And that is something that he has not forgotten. So you can either do something about it, or let this be the end of the Marauders."

James curled a little tighter where he lay. Lily kissed his shoulder and turned out the lights. They could rebuild. _But sometimes,_ she thought, _growth is a choice._

* * *

a/n: Thoughts?


	11. And Skinned of Being (Remus)

Thank you for reviewing!

-Cat

Disclaimer: J.K. is the creator and owner of all things Harry Potter.

* * *

Chapter 11

 _And Skinned of Being (Remus)_

" _Such anger, Lupin. But what could anyone expect from a beast?"_ _The pain was a vice on his mind. He could not escape, could not run. He could not even fight… His identity was trickling away like sand, rubbing against his bones, agonizing…_

Remus shot out of bed. He was in an unfamiliar room with unfamiliar walls, walls that crumbled in on him, held him down. A strong wind whipped around the room and roared in his ears. He stumbled and fell against the mattress, legs curled up against his chest. The hardwood floor was cold, like the floor in his nightmares. He grasped clumps of hair in his hands. Loud, sobbing breaths came like frantic waves and the wind howled. "Please, please, please…" He was slipping, drowning…

" _Anchor yourself to something, Remus." Madame Pomfrey held his hand tightly._

Hyperventilating, vision graying out-

" _Find something present and real. Hold on to it, let it bring you back."_

Something real. He forced his head up and his eyes connected with the open window. The sky deep indigo, but the horizon was gray. Sunrise.

He drank it in, let the dawn fill him. Lavender, then the soft pink color of sea shells. He remembered sea shells. His mother collected them, set them on the windowsills.

And then Remus could breathe. The wind died. He was in his room in Kent Cottage. There were the gauzy curtains, settling back into place. There was his bookshelf. There were his hands. The left one quivered, and he curled it into a fist to stabilize it, making the scars stand out pearly white.

Inhale. Exhale. _Just a nightmare, Remus. Get a grip._ But he was losing control at the most unexpected moments.

He peered down at his right hand. The palm was pale in the dawn. Concentrating, he thought, _Incendio_. Blue flames crackled across his skin and died. With a sigh, he leaned his head back against the bed. The wandless magic that used to come so easily to him was now a struggle. He tried not to let the failure bother him, but it was a loss that cut deep. His magic had become unhinged with his shaken identity. The limp curtains mocked him. His nightmares could brew windstorms, but his broken mind could produce barely a flicker.

Down the hall he could hear Sirius saying good morning to Lily and James. Remus felt a moment of irrational irritation at the loudness of Sirius' voice, but it disappeared quickly. He couldn't sleep anyway. " _Such anger, Lupin."_ He stood abruptly and went to his bookshelf, examining the titles to distract himself. _Standard Book of Spells: Grade One, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them._

" _What could one expect from a beast?"_

"I'm not a monster," he said out loud, glad of the silencing charms he had placed on his room. _Standard Book of Spells: Grade Two._ Second year of Hogwarts. With a sickening feeling, Remus realized he had a large, gaping hole in his memory where second year should be. No feelings, no sounds, nothing. Pushing down panic, he struggled to stop the ground from dissolving beneath his feet. Something important happened that year, something unprecedented. It changed his life.

" _We solemnly swear that we will be bound as brothers until the end. No more secrets, no more hiding."_ _Sunset in the hospital wing, glowing on their faces, flashing on James' glasses._

And the ground was back again. A piece slid back into place. But he still felt empty. Voldemort had gouged out his insides, left his head hollow, rattling with only a skeletal framework of his life. Since waking in the hospital wing, every moment was a battle to find the missing parts. He sewed together a good outer mask with what he had, but most of him was still lost.

Shaken, Remus looked away from his books. Sometimes they were a comfort. Today they were just another reminder. He needed to get out of this room.

He dressed and waited for James and Sirius' voices to vanish before emerging. He felt a little bad about avoiding them, but he could not deal with their twin gazes of helplessness this early in the morning. Usually so easy, their company was stiff and uncertain when it was just the three of them. It did not help that his fractured mind was unpredictable, seizing random moments to imprison him inside. At least so far, his volatile magic had remained controlled around his friends.

The kitchen was lit by lanterns and watery sunlight. Lily said, "Good morning" as she paid a disillusioned owl from Hogwarts for the _Daily Prophet_. Remus nodded tiredly and immediately headed for the tea kettle and made himself a mug of strong earl grey tea. Lily did not ask why he was awake so early and he was glad. Truthfully, he was always up at this time, but chose to stay in his room and dispel his ghosts in private.

"Mummy?" called a baby voice from upstairs.

"Coming sweetheart!" Lily replied. She grabbed her mug of tea and disappeared up the stairs. Remus settled at the table, enjoying the solitude. But the moment of peace did not last long. Lily left the _Daily Prophet_ flat on the wooden surface. A title in the index column caught his eye: 'Beware of Werewolf: When Lunacy Meets the Full Moon.'

Remus almost ripped the newspaper in his haste to get to the right page. A picture of a snarling wolf stared up at him. Next to it, a curly-haired witch with rhinestone glasses winked, flourishing a long feathered quill. The caption read: _by Rita Skeeter._ Feeling ill, his eyes drifted to the article.

 _What do you do when the insane meets the deranged? On November 4th, werewolf Remus John Lupin was subjected to the Cruciatus Curse and tortured into insanity by You-Know-Who himself. Reportedly a vagrant werewolf (according to the classification of werewolf habitation released by the Department of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures), Lupin had recently fallen in with the notorious werewolf, Fenrir Greyback. This is confirmed by an anonymous witness statement, "He [Lupin]asked about Greyback's pack, wondering where he could find them. Used to hang around Albus Dumbledore as I recall. Then he disappeared end of September." Greyback is proven to be in league with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. It is easily concluded that Lupin must have also been a servant of You-Know-Who. What he did to displeased him, we can only guess. Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore defends Lupin from the public eye. There are rumors that the mad werewolf was actually treated in the Hogwarts hospital wing for over a week after losing his mind. These events lead to several disturbing questions. Is Dumbledore at all concerned with the safety of the students of Hogwarts? Why is Dumbledore protecting an incurably insane werewolf who may have been in the service of You-Know-You? Should Lupin be allowed to continue his transformations in freedom if his mind is already deranged? Dumbledore seems to believe that the werewolf can be quietly controlled. Meanwhile, the Ministry of Magic's debate on the classification of a werewolf as Beast versus Being continues to be a hot topic of discussion. Does a case of insanity change this debate? I leave it to you, dear readers, to decide._

By the time he finished reading, Remus was trembling. He skimmed it again, feeling as though he was breathing molten lead and not air. It was beyond horrifying to be named a werewolf for the entire wizarding world to read. But this… He had been marked as insane. Stigmatized as a werewolf and a lunatic. Quite suddenly he felt dizzy and gripped the table to stop the kitchen from spinning. A roaring filled his ears...

Steam. Steam rising from his teacup. He focused, breath whistling in through his nose. Sounds popped back into existence, his ears ringing. The article was still open, so he crumbled it and threw it across the room as hard as he could. Sparks sputtered from his fingers, igniting the pages. He could not sit anymore so he stood abruptly and paced. _Oh god, she'd named Dumbledore too._ It was bad enough that Remus was exposed. Dumbledore would face ridicule because of him. He imagined the angry letters that parents must be writing with each passing minute.

He did not hear the floo, but he did notice James stumbling into the kitchen from the living room, glasses askew and ash in his hair.

"Lily!" he called, then stopped sharply when he saw Remus. His hazel eyes met Remus', unmistakably dismayed. They drifted across him, then traveled around the room, finally landing on the ball of paper, the folds rimmed with hypnotic, ember red.

"You read it," he stated. His voice sounded tight. Remus did not trust himself to speak, so he jerked his head and resumed pacing. James stepped forward, hand out, saying, "Moony, it's not true-"

Remus recoiled out of reach, struggling to control his emotions. His left hand was nearly seizing. He looked at the kettle, the stove, the window, anywhere but James' stricken face. "I know," he muttered. "I know it's not."

"That's right," James said. His voice was firm and grounding. He slowly lowered the offered hand.

"I'm not insane," Remus insisted, mostly to himself. _He walked through the halls of Hogwarts, journal clutched in one hand…_

"You're not. That woman is a vicious cow."

"She's reporting what she thinks to be fact."

"That does not justify bigoted trash. I ought to have her investigated…"

"Don't, Prongs. She'll just go after you too. I'm fine."

He wasn't. He knew that. James knew that as well. Remus was suddenly certain that James had rushed hear to tell Lily to hide the paper. With a surge of resentment, Remus turned away from his friend.

"Go back to work, James," he said flatly.

"Moony." James' voice was full of unspoken words. But he said none of them.

"Go back to work," Remus repeated. _We can talk when I'm ready. When you're ready._ He did not turn around until James had retreated and there was a rushing of flames from the living room. He slumped down in front of his tea. It was tepid and tasteless, but he barely noticed. Lily's footsteps decided the stairs.

"Was that James?" she asked, setting Harry in his highchair.

"Yeah," Remus replied. It came out sharper than he meant. A dark red eyebrow arched up her forehead.

"Everything okay?" She crossed the kitchen and pulled out a pan and an egg.

"He was just checking in," Remus said, wishing it sounded casual. "An article appeared in the _Daily Prophet_. About me. He was worried."

Lily chewed her lower lip, cracking the egg and whisking it. Her gaze wandered to the smoldering newspaper. When the egg was scrambling in the frying pan, she said softly, "He means well."

"I know," he snapped. Lily gave him a frosty stare of rebuke. They did not speak again until Harry finished his scrambled egg. By then, Remus' unexpected temper had cooled, leaving him guiltily swirling his cold tea. Lily had been a blessing since… everything had happened. And he was grateful that she did not tiptoe around him like James and Sirius.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. He took the dirty plate from her and brought it to the sink. Doing dishes the muggle way was usually soothing. How could he be so unbalanced by one article? Lily's hand landed gently on his shoulder.

"You don't need to apologize, Remus."

"Yes I do." He scrubbed harder. Distantly, a high voice was hissing " _Crucio."_ "Just because I'm fucked up, doesn't mean I should take it out on you. Sorry," he added, glancing at Harry, who was wandering around the kitchen holding the stuffed Prongs.

"One day, you three are going to pay for the language he hears in this house," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"I don't usually-I don't know why I'm so-"

 _"Such anger-"_

"It's okay, Remus. You're messed up. Not an excuse, but I'll give you some slack." Lily's bluntness shocked Remus into calm. Voldemort's voice faded away.

A crash in the living room reminded them of the other occupant of the house. Lily smiled wryly and went to repair whatever Harry had broken. When she returned, Harry on her hip, Remus had finished the dishes and was drying his hands.

"Why don't I take him outside for a spin on his broom?" Remus suggested. "He could use some fresh air, and frankly, so could I."

"That would be wonderful," Lily said with some relief. "I've got some things to catch up on." She handed the little boy to Remus.

"Moom and Boom!" Harry shrieked happily. Remus and Lily both snorted. Harry hung around his neck and bounced joyfully. Despite the added weight on his still strengthening legs, Remus chuckled. Harry's excitement was a perfect distraction from the heavier burdens he carried. He summoned Harry's little coat with a wave of his wand. He bundled Harry inside the warm lining and retrieved the toy broom.

The air outside was chilly, but in a way that was energizing rather than oppressive. A gauzy layer of clouds veiled the sun and scattered its pale light across the spacious yard. Harry laughed and zoomed along the towering hedges, toes skimming the ground. He only had one close call, which involved nearly running into the thick trunk of the solitary elm tree in the middle of the yard. Remus deftly softened the collision with a cushioning charm from his wand and Harry landed unharmed in the grass.

"Moom, tag!" Harry shouted. This was easier said than done. Harry was very adept at flying his little broom and Remus quickly ran out of energy. Instead, he sat on the grass and invented a new game, charming stones and pinecones for Harry to chase. Impressively, the barely coordinated toddler could reach out with a pudgy hand and bat the items out of the air.

"We'll make a seeker of you yet, cub," Remus said with a grin. "Maybe we can practice with a snitch next time." Harry managed to catch up with another pebble, so Remus moved on to a third pinecone...

" _And it's Potter with the Quaffle, he weaves around the Slytherin defense, he shoots, he SCORES!" A deafening roar…_

"Moomy!"

Blinking away the Hogwarts quidditch pitch, Remus realized he'd allowed the pinecone to fall immobile to the ground. Harry was scrunching his nose, a pout forming.

"More," he insisted. Remus quickly re-charmed the pinecone, which shakily resumed its course. He took deep breaths to slow his heart-rate. He couldn't be spacing out while watching a sixteen-month-old. But that memory… He had completely forgotten the Quidditch House Cup. James went on and on about it every year, how could he have forgotten? Every year was the same, the adrenaline, the rush of excitement, the cheering. Clapping James on the back when the Gryffindor team won, consoling him the two times they lost. The hazy impressions easily found connections in his mind and Remus felt a little less empty.

Eventually Harry got tired and floated back to Remus. He clambered off his broom and latched his arms around his neck once more. His little body was warm and relaxed. Remus stood and carried Harry inside. Deciding it was probably best to give Harry an early nap, he climbed up the creaking stairs.

Harry's nursery was set up across from Lily and James' room. James had charmed the walls to be a soft sky blue and the ceiling to be a galaxy of stars. Harry mumbled sleepily as Remus laid him in his crib. The toddler's small hands reached out expectantly and Remus filled them with the stuffed Moony, Padfoot, and Prongs. It was sweet, the way Harry was attached to them.

As his friend's son drifted into his dream-world, Remus lowered himself into the rocking chair. He tried not to be jealous of the easy sleep, the assurance of the soft toys, the simple trust. It was hard. He wanted James and Sirius back. He knew what was stopping him. The brief images of Sirius' turned back, the suspicious glares, the loneliness. James telling him the real secret keeper, realizing that the truth had been purposely hidden from him. These tangled with the happy days, the pranks, the jokes. With a lump in his throat, Remus struggled to separate them. But fear welled up again and he quickly withdrew, ashamed of the stinging in his eyes.

He could not find that Remus Lupin who was forgiving. He'd lost him. Rage, he could remember. Voldemort whispered it to him almost daily, " _Such anger, Lupin"_ accompanied by his own voice hissing, " _I never want to speak to you again."_ There had to be forgiveness somewhere in his soul. Or was it gone forever? Maybe Voldemort had taken that goodness from him. What was he left with?

A fog of depression rolled over him, so he mechanically stood and closed the mental door, hiding that demon. Hoping that perhaps if he ignored it, it would not grow. _You're lying to yourself, Moony._

* * *

"Moony?"

"Yes?"

"You got a minute?"

"I'm not doing anything, Padfoot."

"Right. Um… about that article-"

"I don't want to talk about the article." Remus said this in a careful monotone, but shot a glare at James, who was behind Sirius' shoulder. James had the grace to look apologetic.

"I told him not to."

"Then don't." Remus directed his glare at Sirius this time.

"Well there's a second thing, actually," Sirius said. His brow was drawn in worry. Remus noticed for the first time that he was holding a piece of paper, turning it over and over in his hands. "Remus, I hate to ask this, but we need you to try and identify someone."

Remus felt a faint sense of surprise. "Who?"

"Well, we don't know who he is…" Sirius trailed away, apprehension filling his voice.

"Just show him the photo, Padfoot," James said. Sirius swallowed and held it out to Remus. He took the photo. His stomach plummeted.

His unpredictable memory supplied the name instantly. There was no mistaking the scarred face, the ragged clothing, the thinning soot-colored hair. The photo was black and white, but Remus could visualize the redness of the empty socket beneath the torn eyelid. The dead man was splayed across a cobblestone road, frozen horror his last expression.

"Remus?" James said softly. Remus realized that he had not spoken for several minutes. He handed him the photograph.

"His name is Declan," he murmured.

"Is he… a friend?" Sirius asked.

"No. But he was the closest thing I had to a friend last month," Remus replied. Sirius flinched. Remus kept his gaze on the photograph in James' hand. "He was a member of Greyback's pack, has a wife and a kid somewhere. I don't know their names. But you could look at old Ministry employment records. He worked for the Department of Magical Transportation a little over a decade ago. Or you could just check the werewolf registry."

"He's a werewolf?"

"Yes. You didn't know?"

Both shook their heads. "We thought maybe…" Sirius began, but did not finish. Remus knew that he did not want to say that Declan looked just like a feral werewolf would. Like what Remus should be.

"How did you know I could identify him then?"

James hesitated, but answered anyway. "There was a note pinned to him. Demanding that Dumbledore surrender you."

"Oh." Remus felt like his ears were filling with water. "How was he found?"

"Hogsmeade, this afternoon. His body just appeared. He'd been...he'd been tortured."

The water was in his lungs now. He struggled to speak. "So...so Voldemort is still after me. Even though I'm supposed to be insane."

"Do you-" Sirius paused and reconsidered. James finished the question for him.

"Do you know why?"

It was the first time anyone had directly asked Remus the reason Voldemort was out for his blood. Of course he had already asked himself that question. He asked himself every single day. The truth was, most of his time as Voldemort's captive was like a black hole in his memory. Every time he was brave enough to even try finding the answer, it would slip away. His memory would sputter painfully. _Agony ripping at him, shredding his being, taking over…_ Then the inexplicable panic would set in, take hold of his mind and wrench his consciousness away with the brutality of the wolf…

 _Bones cracked and reformed, hair and fangs and claws, the wolf's mind was predatory, blood-thirsty, locking him away… "You're our friend Remus. The wolf is not who you truly are." Sirius approached and gently laid a hand on Remus' shoulder. Remus' eyes widened at the touch. A spark of hope..._

"Moony? Moony, I'm sorry, you don't have to answer right now." Remus shook his head and realized that there were real, flesh and blood hands on his shoulders. James' concerned, spectacled face was close to his. The room spun. "Moony, please breathe."

Remus gasped. Oxygen flowed to his brain and his vision cleared. _Find an anchor, find and anchor_...the weight of James' hands. Sirius right beside him. And then he was back completely. His cheeks warmed. At least his unstable magic was still locked away.

"I don't know why he's after me," he said, panting.

"It's okay, Moony. It's okay. I'm sorry…"

Remus waited for his breathing to calm down. Then he said, "You can let go now." James released him, but remained close. The three of them stood like that, close together without speaking. Remus felt a rush of gratitude towards them. They weren't running away, like they'd promised.

" _We solemnly swear that we will be bound as brothers until the end. No more secrets, no more hiding."_

" _You've lied to us before."_

The moment burst like a balloon. Remus ducked his head and said quietly, "You should probably go tell someone that you've identified Declan."

"Yeah."

He waited for his friends to leave the office. They hesitated, but eventually he was left on his own. _How do we move on from this?_ He sank down into his armchair and looked dejectedly outside. The sun was low on the horizon, lighting up the bare trees with gold. And there, several degrees above the golden branches was a pale near-circle. The moon was swelling. A shadow of old, familiar fear fell over him. Remus squeezed his eyes shut. Fear was always his battle, and now it was holding him back from James and Sirius. If only solemn vows were enough to stop mistakes from being made.

" _A mistake. I think you won't do it again."_ His vision was overtaken by a black lake, ruffled by wind. " _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."_ _Sirius' arms were wrapped around him. "You're forgiven," Remus whispered. "And I'm sorry too."_

And suddenly, the night on the shore of the black lake came rushing back. They had both made mistakes. Sirius had betrayed his trust, had made one of his worst fears come true. And Remus could not let it go. Combined, the two of them nearly tore the Marauders apart. _But I forgave him. We're brothers and I forgave him because we needed each other._

Maybe he was broken. But he would never fix those cracks without his brothers. And they needed to mend soon. The wolf was coming.

* * *

a/n: This chapter has many angsts (yes, I know that's improper grammar). Things will get better eventually... -Cat


	12. Bad Blood In Us (James)

Hi there! Your reviews are lovely :) Happy reading!

-Cat

Disclaimer: All characters and storylines appearing in the Harry Potter series are, obviously, property of J. K. Rowling.

* * *

Chapter 12

 _Bad Blood In Us (James)_

"Potter. Got a minute?"

James exhaled, feeling the ache of tiredness in every muscle of his body. He noticed absently that his robes were singed. And there was blood on the sleeves. Lots of blood. Lily would not be happy. He pushed his glasses up his nose and turned to face Mad-Eye.

"Yeah. What's up?"

"Your office," Mad-Eye grunted. James followed the grizzly auror to his original destination. There were papers piled on his desk and stuffed into random books. Four new memos were stacked in the middle, a single downy feather on top. The window was charmed to show a beautiful sunny day, despite the freezing gray rain that had soaked James to the bone. He cast a quick drying spell and collapsed into his chair, gesturing vaguely for Moody to seat himself.

"Nice spell-work today. Good to have you back."

"Thanks," James groaned, massaging his temples. He was too tired to even be excited that he had squeezed a compliment from the bad-tempered wizard. "Too bad nothing came of it."

"Think of the Death Eaters filling Azkaban so far, Potter. We're making a difference. Days like today happen."

 _Too often_ , James thought. The Death Eaters were getting bold, striking wizarding and muggle homes closer and closer to London. They'd had to move the Longbottoms yesterday ( _again_ ), when figures in black cloaks had started to hang out too close to the wards. This most recent attack had been particularly nasty, a combination of dementors and Death Eaters in a suburb of Surrey. Lily's sister lived near there with her pig of a husband and their son... _Duncan? Dylan?_ But all the Death Eaters had escaped after a quick, ugly battle. James' partner and mentor, Nelson Hapley, was being treated in St. Mungo's for wounds caused by sectumsempra. James shuddered. Nelson's blood was still felt wet on his robe sleeves despite the drying spell.

"Scourgify," he muttered. Mad-Eye's blue eye followed the movements of James' wand.

"Hapley will be okay. He's a strong fighter."

"I know," James said. "It's just...we're getting injured more and more. Too many deaths. Willy Federer last week...he was just a trainee."

"This is bigger than us," Mad-Eye said with a scowl.

"Right." James leaned forward, resting his elbows heavily on his knees. "What was it you wanted to talk about?"

"First of all, Lupin."

"What about him?" James asked sharply.

"He's living with you, Dumbledore told me everything. How is he?"

James eyed his mentor. So Mad-Eye was one of the few people in the world who knew that Remus was much more stable than portrayed. Mentally, his count went up to five.

"He's...he's recovering. Lily knows more, she spends practically every waking moment watching him. Did you handle the uh...ministry summons?"

"Yeah. At least something's in his favor. Convinced the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures that an insane werewolf is not someone they want coming to the Ministry for mandatory evaluation. An exception has been made for him, he won't get a summons." James breathed a sigh of relief. Mad-Eye's stare was penetrating. "How has he been coping?"

"Reading. Meditating. Taking care of Harry. Actually he's been really helpful to Lily and I. She can get her work done easier and I don't feel bad leaving her alone with the little scamp."

"And mentally?"

"Fine," James said tightly. Mad-Eye meant well, but Remus' mental stability was a sore spot with him since Skeeter's article appeared in the _Daily Prophet_ a couple days ago. And since James asked him about Voldemort.

"I'm assuming it was him who identified Declan Summers then. Good," Mad-Eye said with a smile. In his craggy face it was an alarming expression. "Dumbledore and I want him to do some research for the Order, make him feel a little useful. Wanted to check that he could handle it before we dumped a load of readings on dark magic on him."

"Oh." James felt a little bad about his sharpness. "Right. He might like that. I think babysitting is getting old anyway. I'll ask him."

Mad-Eye seemed satisfied. "Now, second order of business-"

The door flew open and Sirius burst in, robes flying. His wild eyes settled on James and he blinked once, twice- "Oh. You're okay."

"I'm okay," James reassured him, rolling his eyes.

"I heard about the raid. I was investigating some dark artifacts planted in muggle homes, just got back. Finch was going on about-"

"Merlin's beard, Padfoot, breathe."

"How's Hapley?"

"No idea." James grimaced. Sirius sighed. He noticed Mad-Eye, scowling at him from his chair.

"Hey Mad-Eye."

"Black. Glad to see you've maintained a calm demeanor under stress."

"Impressive levels of self-control," James added with a smirk.

"Shut up, Prongs."

"No, really, it's quite something-"

"Enough, both of you. Black, shut the door and sit down. Might as well hear what I have to say."

"Sure." Sirius beamed at the auror and conjured a chair with a flourish. He sat, brushing his black locks out of his eyes and putting his boots on the desk.

"Feet off the desk, Padfoot."

"Of course."

His feet remained where they were. James glared at him.

"Anyway," Mad-Eye said in a threatening tone. "I was going to say that we need to start doing more to defeat Voldemort. These pointless missions and surveillance of Death Eater homes are not enough. People are scared. Scared people start to make stupid decisions. Voldemort will use fear to draw them into his followers. It worked with Pettigrew." James and Sirius both flinched. "Dumbledore is in agreement. We need to start working towards a plan of action. Part of this is Remus' research, but the other part falls to us. The Ministry has been infiltrated. We can't trust anyone, not even in the auror department. We need to find the leaks before anyone else and _use_ them."

"Use them?"

"If people are under the Imperius curse, it won't help much. It's the actual supporters that we want. We'll monitor them, figure out their goals, what Voldemort is trying to do. It won't be easy. We'll need other Order members to help. If we can manage to do it quietly, we'll be a step ahead."

"So just to be clear-we are not going to report any Death Eaters we find in the Ministry?" Sirius asked.

"No it would be pointless anyway."

"Why?"

"Well, that brings me to my next thing." Mad-Eye's blue eye roved three-hundred and sixty degrees before coming to rest on James. "Minister Bagnold is losing her grip on the departments within the government. Minchum left her with a mess last year. This is no climate to rehabilitate failed anti-Voldemort campaigns, but she keeps banging her head against that wall. Crouch is getting more and more ruthless with Magical Law Enforcement, accusing people left and right, but ignoring the ones that matter. Look at Malfoy." Sirius actually growled under his breath. "We have eye-witness statements from the two of you saying that he was hosting Voldemort and his followers in his mansion. And all he got was a month's suspension pending further investigation. Investigation which isn't happening because Crouch is too bloody busy arresting anything that moves! The Ministry is corrupt, there is no questioning. The problem is knowing who the liars are."

James agreed with Mad-Eye's paranoia. He could count the people he trusted in the Ministry on one hand. And two of them were in this room with him.

"There's no point trying to fix a rotting system, so we'll have to act under the radar. Augustus Rookwood our main target for now," Mad-Eye continued. "I believe that he is one source of the espionage within the Ministry."

"Rookwood...Department of Mysteries Rookwood?" Sirius clarified.

"Yes."

"We've no reason to suspect him."

"Dumbledore does. I trust him."

"Fine," James said. "How do we do it?"

"We watch and we listen. Your invisibility cloak may come in handy." James nodded and made a mental note to ask Dumbledore to return the cloak he had borrowed.

"When do we start?"

"Tomorrow. You've had a long day."

James and Sirius glanced at each other. Tonight was the November moon. There was no way they would be rested enough for tomorrow, but neither argued. Moody stood and the chair creaked in relief.

"Go home," he growled. "You're done for the day. Lupin will need you soon."

Sirius raised his eyebrows, but Mad-Eye was already closing the door behind him.

"You don't think he-"

"Nah," James said, staring after Moody. "He just means that Moony will need our support beforehand."

"I almost would not be surprised if he guessed," Sirius snorted. Then he sobered. "Fucking moon."

James could not have said it better himself. They had been warily anticipating this night since Remus had left the hospital wing. It had been months since they spent a full moon with Remus. Everything had changed since the last moon. Events such as the intense emotional upheaval Remus just experienced could greatly influence the mood of the wolf. And on top of that, things were...strained amongst the remaining Marauders. Not right. James thought of the argument he had with Lily almost a week ago, feeling ashamed of himself for not acting sooner. Something needed to be done. Tonight.

"At least we can go home early today," James said, pushing himself up. It was easy to maintain the facade that all was well. The hard part was coming.

As they went through the various security checkpoints to leave the Ministry James wearily wondered how long they would be able to keep this up. The world was crumbling to dust and no matter how hard he tried he could not stop it. He never said it to either Sirius or Remus, but Peter's betrayal had hit him harder than he'd shown. He was shaken to know that even the strongest bonds could be torn apart. _That bond was never as strong as you thought. Loyalty is not enough in the face of fear._

Sirius had completely disowned Peter as a friend almost immediately. He had always had issues with trusting others. A child from the Black family knew intimately the shadows where demons hide. Sirius saw more people in his life choose darkness over light. His own brother joined the Death Eaters. Peter was just another tally. Another blow that Sirius absorbed, stumbled even, but continued fighting. But James was badly wounded, having never seen the blow coming. He was still struggling to separate the two Peters in his head, friend and traitor.

When they reached the apparation point, Sirius was watching him in concern. James ignored him, hoping he would let it go. His brooding thoughts were trivial compared to what Remus was facing. Together they apparated onto their secret property and walked up the garden path. Tiny flakes were starting to float to the cold, brown earth. When they entered the cottage, James could smell the acrid odor of brewing potions. Lily was preparing for the aftermath of whatever the moon had in store for them tonight. _That used to be Peter's job._ He grimaced and waved his wand, banishing the odor to whatever room Lily was in.

They went into the living room. Minnie was curled warily on the windowsill, eyeing Remus through narrowed eyes. The werewolf was on the couch, pale and drawn. He'd set up several pots of colorful paint, which Harry was smearing directly on the coffee table with messy fingers. He held himself on wobbly legs to dab red into the kaleidoscope of colors. Whatever the picture was supposed to be, it was nothing James recognized.

"Whoa. Don't think you're destined to be an artist, mate," James said, squinting his eyes and turning his head.

"Da!" Harry grinned toothily. He toddled over to James. Since learning to walk, he had progressed impressively. Before James could stop him, Harry was clinging to his legs, covering his pants with a rainbow of paint. James laughed and lifted him up. Harry methodically started painting polka-dots into his hair.

Remus smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. "I managed to talk him down from painting the entire living room. I figured the table would be the best compromise. We can clean it later."

"I don't know, it kind of brightens up the room, don't you think?" Sirius declared. "You look like death, Moony." Remus glared at him.

"I'd hit you, but I'm not entirely sure I can stand."

"That bad, huh?" James asked. Remus looked away. He hated his pre-moon weakness during his best months. This month must be a hundred times worse.

"You want to eat?" Sirius asked.

"No," Remus said shortly. "I just want to get this over with. We should be leaving soon."

Remus had adamantly refused transforming in the cottage cellar. The prospect of having Harry and Lily so close turned him whiter than marble; to be honest, James agreed. The problem was finding a safe place. Full moon was when Remus was at his weakest, therefore the ideal time to set up an ambush. Eventually, Dumbledore decided that the best choice would be the Shrieking Shack, which would be doubly reinforced with protective spells to keep others away.

"Well, let's get moving then," Sirius said. He moved to Remus' side and offered an arm, which Remus took gratefully. Lily appeared with three bottles of potion. James recognized a blood-replenisher, essence of dittany, and murtlap. She slipped them into a bag that also contained bandages and a change of clothes.

"Like your new hair-do, Love," she said with a smirk. This faded when she noticed his singed robes, but she refrained from comment. "You'd better get going." She handed him the bag. Then after a long kiss that left James breathless, she relieved him of the colorful Harry.

"Righto, lovebirds. Let's go before I drop Moony," Sirius said cheerfully. Remus' arm was slung over his shoulder, but at least the werewolf's legs were planted beneath him.

They apparated to the Hogwarts gates and trudged to the Whomping Willow. Here, the snow was almost to their knees, but the sky was clear. Most students were huddled inside, so they had no witnesses as James somberly levitated a long stick and prodded the knot. The Willow froze. No one mentioned how this used to be Peter's job, but Sirius' jaw clenched a little tighter as he vanished the tracks leading to the violent tree. They lowered Remus down into the tunnel and followed. By the time they reached the trapdoor, Sirius and James were on either side of their friend, holding him upright. James noted that Remus was still worryingly light when he hoisted him up the ladder and onto the floor of the Shack.

"Couch or bed, Moony?" he asked.

"Couch," Remus mumbled.

"Couch it is."

They settled down as the rays of the dying sun filtered through the tops of the windows. James draped a heavy blanket around Remus. He leaned his head back on the cushion we was slumped against. As Sirius made to close the trapdoor, Remus spoke.

"Wait."

"Huh?" Sirius said vaguely without stopping his task. He latched it and murmured, "Colloportus."

"I said wait," Remus sighed. "You guys should go. You don't need to stay."

"Of course we do," Sirius said. But James understood, his heart sinking.

"No, you don't-"

"We want to, Moony," James interrupted gently. He checked his watch. They had an hour until sundown, an hour until the moon began to rise. With a glance at Sirius, who was staring at Remus mutely, he took the lead in what promised to be a difficult exchange. "I think that we need to have a conversation we should've had a while ago."

Remus blinked at him, expressionless. Sirius settled in a rickety chair across from them. James hoped he was thinking the same thing as him.

"Remus," he started again. He thought back to the mistakes he had made regarding the more studious and quiet Marauder. "I'm sorry. I made a terrible mistake, deciding not to trust you and leaving you behind. I allowed fear to direct me instead of the love of my brother."

The werewolf's amber eyes were fixed on him, the only movement being his fatigued trembling. Something flickered in his expression. "You couldn't have stayed," he said softly. "I wanted you to be safe. And I've done the same. Letting fear guide me." The corner of his mouth twitched and he muttered, "You still have paint in your hair, James. Scourgify. "

What felt like a gentle pulling sensation washed over his scalp.

"Thanks."

Then Sirius spoke and Remus' gaze moved to him.

"Prongs couldn't have said it better," the dark-haired man breathed. Then he squared his shoulders. "Merlin, Remus when I realized what had happened, what a horrible mistake I made. God, _months_ I spent doubting you, Moony. It's...what I did...I chipped us away from the inside and you never deserved that. And I won't blame you if you never forgive me." And then Sirius was finished, hunched over and despondent.

Remus took a shuddering breath. The whole Shack seemed to inhale with him, as though preparing for the fate of the Marauders that it had sheltered for so many years. James knew what would happen seconds before Remus delivered the soft, steady words, "I forgive you. Both of you."

And the whole universe seemed to exhale. The tension James did not even notice before fled, leaving him feeling airy. Sirius seemed several years younger, the extra lines that had appeared over the year were less deep. He stared at Remus was something like disbelief. Remus had forgiven him a second time.

"Don't know how you do it Moony," he muttered.

"For a while I… I wondered if I could," Remus said in a low voice. His honesty was difficult to hear. "But I had time and space to think."

Sirius huffed a small, guilty laugh. James sadly realized that it would take more than just time to make up for their absence. Lily was right. They should have done this sooner.

It was growing dimmer inside the ancient room, so James lit the lantern hanging over the middle of the room. He gathered their things and stashed them in an enchanted cupboard so they would be safe for the night.

"Almost like the old days," Remus said into the orange glow. "Except for Peter."

It was the first time his name had been spoken among the three of them since the day Remus woke up in the hospital wing. Sirius and James stiffened. James had purposely been avoiding the topic because it was too raw. Sirius because he was worried about what effect it would have on Remus.

"He betrayed us, I know that," Remus reassured Sirius, who was looking uncomfortable. "But I'm allowed to grieve a little."

James tilted his head. So Remus thought that Peter was worth some mourning. A small amount of relief spread a balm on his jumbled thoughts. Before he could think too hard about it, he asked, "What happened to him? He used to be… good, right? He was our friend."

For once, Sirius did not explode. In fact, his blue eyes pierced James with a penetrating gaze that would rival Albus Dumbledore's. Then, amazingly, he was the one to answer.

"I don't believe this world is really split into light and dark. I mean… look at us. We make mistakes. We hurt others, even those we love, our closest friends." He glanced at Remus. "I'm from a dark family, everyone knows that. There's bad blood in me. But I think there's darkness in everyone. We all have both light and dark inside. But I think… I think that what we choose matters. Doesn't it?"

James did not have an answer and Remus was quiet. Sirius was no longer slumped. He was upright, his brow knitted in thought, as if he was also convincing himself of his own words. Something re-kindled in James' chest as he mulled over Sirius' statement. A tiny light flickered in Remus' eyes, faint in his pale and gaunt face. But it was there. Outside, an owl hooted. The sky was streaked with brilliant reds and oranges, lavender edging the fire. Purple night chased after the sun, smothering it.

"Peter was there," Remus said. His voice was getting weaker, the moon pulling with a vice-like grip. "At Malfoy Manor. He w-watched sometimes. I th-think Voldemort forced him." James went very still. He dared not breathe until Remus finished. It was clearly getting harder for him to concentrate; his words were shaking, fragmenting. Remus lowered his head into his hands, sandy brown hair spilling through his fingers, gray streaks obvious. "He… when I was l-losing myself… his face was there and I remembered yours, that I belonged somewhere. I fought for that."

Remus' body was rocking back and forth now. The moon was approaching. Sirius got up quickly and held him close. James settled on the other side. They were motions that they had gone through for so many moons, but tonight they carried more weight. Their eyes met over Remus' bent head. Behind Sirius, the sky in the window was indigo.

"Moony…" Sirius said softly.

"I can't...I can't do this…" His voice was breathless, panicked. "I've given everything... fought for my identity with all I have every single day...I'm going to lose it all again tonight. What if I can't come back?"

"You will," James said, surer than he felt. _Don't break now, Remus. Not after everything_ … He placed his hand on Remus' back, trying to hold him together. "You're strong. Stronger than any of us. Stronger than the wolf."

"You should go." He was nearly delirious now. "The wolf… the wolf fought him, but he's hurt. He doesn't understand that it's over. He'll feel the pain and think he's still there. He might...I might..."

"We'll show him that he's safe. He needs his friends," Sirius whispered, anguished. "Don't push us away."

"He's going to destroy me," Remus whimpered. Sirius' grip tightened.

"You didn't choose this. It is not who you are, Remus. He can't take that away," James murmured. Sirius' words were still a flame in his chest. The quaking reached a crescendo. Then, like a thief in the night, a sliver of silver spilled through the window. Remus went rigid. The blanket fell away. His gasping breaths changed and he tumbled from the couch to the ground. James and Sirius backed away. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and James melted into Prongs. Padfoot whined, but it was drowned out by a scream of agony. Prongs had seen the transformation countless times, but tonight seemed excruciating. The wolf broke through the fragile human like a hurricane, shattering bones and eviscerating muscle tissue. Animalistic fear tasted bitter in Prongs' mouth. But he held his ground.

A howl filled the Shack, reverberating against the wooden structure. Then Moony was panting, yellow eyes wild like a cornered animal. He was shaking violently, something James had never seen him do. Then the wolf's eyes locked onto Prongs. Prongs' heart skipped a beat when he saw no recognition, only pain, harrowing and intense. And a maddened desperation to make it stop. Moony's claws scrabbled against the floorboards and he charged. Prongs bellowed and lowered his antlers, while Padfoot's growls filled the air. Moony snarled, but stopped. Padfoot's hackles were raised. Then he wagged his tail and barked. The snarls changed to a low whine.

On previous moons, the wolf's mood varied from irritated to playful. He and Padfoot would yip and chase, Prongs dancing around them, Wormtail on his back. But on this November night , the wolf was beyond weariness. He curled between them, exhausted from his fight with the world. Needing the closeness of his pack. After the horrific events that had torn up their lives since leaving Hogwarts, it was the most peaceful full moon Moony, Padfoot, and Prongs ever spent together.

* * *

a/n: I hope this was a little lighter compared to the last few chapters (despite the full moon). I was starting to make myself sad. Interlude next. Lots to look forward to coming up!


	13. Interlude II: The Shadow (Peter)

Chapter 13

 _Interlude II: The Shadow (Peter)_

The full moon shone bone-white and blinding in the great black dome of the sky. The stars were as unforgiving as the freezing ocean spray that was drenching Peter's huddled form. The salt stung his eyes, but he could not wipe them because of the skull-like mask over his face. His black robes hung as heavy as chains. Perhaps by the end of the night, he would be in chains. He shuddered and looked down the obsidian rocks the ocean smashed against repeatedly. Maybe he should just throw himself into the cold, dark water. But he could not bring himself to do it. _Coward_.

The moon. The reminder of what he had forsaken burned his skin. Anger and resentment flared. _They never needed me. I was nothing to them_. Sirius and James only ever saw him as a side-kick. And Remus Lupin was permanently damaged. Insane. Only the shell of the man was left. The thought of the intelligent, bookish werewolf losing his mind made Peter ill. Was the wolf affected? Maybe it would kill the shell of Remus tonight and put him out of his misery. Or at least save him from the gruesome fate the Dark Lord had planned for him.

His master's rage after Remus' rescue was...nothing like he had ever experienced. The pain still coiled around him in dreams, making sleep impossible. Even Bellatrix was subdued by renewed fear of the Dark Lord. Lucky for Peter, he was not expendable. While violating Remus' mind, Voldemort had seen that he was an animagus, as were James and Sirius. The Dark Lord forced Peter to explain their secret. A rat could be useful for spying and sneaking. James and Sirius had not revealed their animagus abilities yet for fear of being arrested. Why would they now? Yes, Peter was still useful. Peter was still alive.

Peter blew on his hands and rubbed them together in the cold, eyeing the wind-swept darkness ahead. The cliffs were lined with black figures, unmoving amidst the thunderous waves. Then, across the groping water, there was a shower of red sparks.

The Death Eaters moved as a single mass. Boats appeared on the shore and were filled with the Dark Lord's followers. Then they set out across the water, skimming fans of murky foam in their wakes. Peter did not know how it was possible, but it got colder. The wind cut like shards of glass. The cold seeped into his bones, into his thoughts. They slowed to a glacial pace, registering only dread and despair. Peter barely remembered their purpose for being here. There was someone screaming in his head, long and ragged and endless. Remus.

Then the single spike of Azkaban reared from the waves, and the ocean spray crystallized into sleet. Dementors swarmed out like flies from dead flesh. But instead of striking the boats, they swirled around them in the air, beckoning and encouraging. The Death Eaters would be unhindered tonight. Somewhere Bellatrix was cackling, but she was drowned away by screaming, screaming.

"Get ahold of yerself, Pettigrew," Dolohov's voice growled next to him. Peter startled. Beneath his robes, he grabbed his forearms with his nails and squeezed hard. _Distract yourself, ignore them_. The screaming faded to a low whine in the back of his head. They had a job to do tonight. The ranks of the Death Eaters would swell with the prisoners of Azkaban. The Dark Lord would swallow the world like the moon consumed Remus with a monster.

The boats bumped the shore in the shadow of the tower of Azkaban. In the boat next to Peter and Dolohov was the hostage. His thin mustache quivered and his eyes bulged in horror. He was still in his silk pajamas and muttering to himself, "Wake up, wake up, please wake up…"

"Shaddup," Dolohov sneered. He and Rosier hauled the prisoner onto the wet rocks. The man looked like he was about to pass out from terror. Peter felt the same. Then he felt ashamed of himself for empathizing with the hostage.

They waited on the shore while the rest of the Death Eaters went inside, blasting away the wizard guards. Within minutes, Azkaban bled out its convicts. Some crowed in triumph, others roared their rage at the Ministry. One walked steadily towards them, his face split into a grin, showing rotting teeth.

"Rabastan," Rosier said in greeting over the crashing waves and shouts. He reached into his robes and pulled out a thin wand. Lestrange took it almost lovingly. Then his unfeeling eyes looked down at the hostage.

"Who is this?" he asked coldly.

"Arwel Atkins," Dolohov replied. "The Dark Lord has a special duty for you to perform for him, Lestrange. A duty involving your particular set of skills. Pettigrew!"

Peter jumped and scrambled back to their boat. Inside was a briefcase. He lifted this out, slipping on the rocks and hurried back. He handed the case to Lestrange, who took it without so much as looking at him.

"You'll go to Atkins' home tonight," Rosier said. Lestrange nodded. Dolohov produced a rusted pair of scissors and approached Atkins, who cowered, breathing shallowly. Brutally, Dolohov hacked away the man's hair and collected it in a drawstring pouch. This, he handed to Lestrange.

"Your complete instructions are in the briefcase," he said shortly. "You have a month."

"The Dark Lord will not be disappointed." Lestrange said it softly, yet somehow it carried over the sounds of angry sea and escaped prisoners. He clambered into an empty boat and disappeared into the night.

Atkins finally succumbed to shock and slumped to the ground in a dead faint. Dolohov kicked his body in disgust.

"We are to bring him with us," he said. He motioned at Peter. "Put him in the boat. We're leaving."

Peter dragged and rolled the unconscious man to a boat, trying to ignore the acrid odor of urine. Fear. He paused for just a moment. The black water boiled around his freezing legs. The current sucked downwards. Peter could practically hear the ocean's promise of escape. For a second, all he wanted was the courage to die. Then he boarded the boat.

* * *

a/n: Let me know what you think :)


	14. Against the Abyss (Remus)

It's the weekend! Thank you for your kind reviews :)

-Cat

* * *

Chapter 14

 _Against the Abyss (Remus)_

" _It is not who you are, Remus."_

He was standing at the edge of the void for the second time. His eyes were shut, and he was content in the warm darkness. Here it was quiet. Here the missing fragments and brokenness did not matter. Here the nightmares were banished. It was the deepness, far away, where anything painful disintegrates.

It was an enormous thing, to heal his soul. Balancing on the edge, he knew could escape that burden. He could step over. Up there was an army of psychological monsters. They hid around every corner, attacked when he least expected-

" _Lupin, Remus. Werewolf bite. How would you like to proceed?"_

" _W-what do you mean?"_

" _Death would be more merciful in his case. He won't have friends. His quality of life will be nothing. He might even kill himself next moon. This way it will be quick and painless, he won't feel anything. "_

" _Who the hell do you think you are?! This is my SON! I want a new healer..."_

He was fighting incorporeal demons that were very real. They lived on the inside.

But he could not stay here. He was cutting the blood supply from mental wounds that needed healing. Healing requires blood.

" _Hello fellow new Gryffindor! Sirius Black. You can sit here. What was your name again?"_

" _Um, Lupin."_

" _Got a first name to go with that?"_

" _Remus. Remus Lupin."_

His memories whirled around him like scattered leaves, but he was putting them back together. It was like a puzzle. He had to go back to his brothers. They needed him. And he needed them.

" _What you choose matters."_

Choice.

" _We'll always be here for you, Moony."_

So Remus backed away from the edge, bracing himself for the shadows.

" _Crucio!"_

 _He was writhing with pain. Agony sizzled through him like lightning, searing through his brain and severing nerves. He couldn't even beg for mercy, he was losing control. Voldemort laughed, high-pitched. Remus lay, face pressed to the hard stones, panting and coughing. Blood spattered the cold surface._

" _I will find you," Voldemort hissed. An invisible vice forced Remus' face upwards. He was staring into pitiless red eyes. "I have pushed the boundaries of magic further…"_

"Remus, wake up."

 _Then the pain was back, excruciating...no one was coming to rescue him this time...he felt himself losing his will. Go back to the abyss...jump in. You will never feel again…_

"Moony, come on. Wake up!"

 _Voldemort shrieked in anger. Death was coming. An overwhelming fear gripped him, so strong it seemed alien. It wasn't his fear...it couldn't be…_

"Moony!"

" _Avada Kedavra!"_

 _Green light filled his vision and he was floating from himself…No! He needed to stay, someone needed to know...what?_

"REMUS!"

Two pairs of hands were holding him down. Remus struggled. Someone was yelling. He could not throw them off. Why was he so weak? The answer came almost immediately. The moon had drained him. Reality crashed into him and he opened his eyes. Sirius was looming over him, hair falling into his face. James leaned over the back of the couch, glasses askew. Both were breathing hard.

"Moony, stop," Sirius commanded. Remus realized he was still straining against them and went limp. Neither of his friends moved.

"I'm okay," Remus gasped. "You can let go."

James released him and straightened his glasses. Remus glared at Sirius.

"Let go, Padfoot."

Finally, the pressure on his arm was gone and Sirius collapsed to the floor. Remus took in his surroundings. He was in the living room of the cottage. The red curtains were drawn, but pencil-thin shards of sun still entered through the cracks. The paint-stained coffee table looked like it had been hastily pushed out of the way. Above the mantle, the clock showed 11:57 a.m. He could not remember coming back from the Shrieking Shack. He closed his eyes tightly and shuddered. The nightmare was already fading away, leaving him simultaneously depleted of energy and wide awake.

"Does this happen often?" James' voice asked, emotionless.

Remus saw no point in lying. "Yes."

"You put silencing charms on your room." It was not a question. He heard Sirius shifting on the floor. When he blinked his eyes open, the dark-maned wizard was leaning against the coffee-table. There was something haggard about his appearance, marring his usual refinement. How long had that tiredness been there? Remus' scattered brain failed to answer. He searched for something else to talk about.

"How did the night go?" he settled on.

"Smoothly. Moony was upset at first, but he calmed once he realized we were there. But you didn't wake up after moonset. Had us worried." As he spoke, James moved around the couch and sat next to Sirius. Remus was skeptical that the night went well. But as he examined his friends, he realized that neither were injured, only sleep-deprived.

"Thank you for staying," Remus murmured.

"We wanted to," Sirius said forcefully. A vein was throbbing in his temple, one of the first signs of Sirius losing his patience…

" _Hello, Regulus." A sixteen-year-old Sirius stood stiffly in the Great Hall. He had not spoken with his brother since he ran away. Regulus sneered, surrounded by Slytherins. Sirius' fists clenched… Sirius crumbled the newspaper into a ball and chucked it across the room. "Fucking Ministry. Sweet Merlin, Moony, they have no right to regulate your job interviews."... "I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me." The boy sat on his bed. A set of seven stones were lined up on the grimy window sill-_

"-have to let us help you! I'm sorry we haven't really been around, that's our fault, but Moony, we're your friends! I get that you need some time, I get that, but you can't expect us to be okay with silencing charms on your bedroom every damn night!"

With a jolt, Remus realized that Sirius was gone from the floor. Instead, he was pacing and moving his hands as he spoke-well, shouted. _Get a hold of yourself, Moony_. Remus fought to control the tremor in his hand, a remnant of the memories. James was watching him closely, hazel eyes flitting to his fingers.

"Can you even hear him?" he questioned quietly. Remus' stomach plummeted.

"Yes," he said defensively. Sirius was still ranting. How long had he been spaced out? He tried to focus on Sirius again, but he had an odd feeling. That little boy...that wasn't his memory, was it? He rubbed the bridge of his nose. Too many things weren't connecting. Maybe Rita Skeeter was right. He was going mad.

"You're not going mad."

 _Damn._ He'd spoken out loud. Sirius had interrupted his tirade and was now staring at him fiercely.

"I don't know about that, Padfoot," Remus breathed.

"You're. Not. Going. Mad," Sirius repeated. He sighed and slumped back down next to James. Remus noted with some amusement that Sirius was about an inch taller than James. They had an argument years ago about who would be tallest when they finished growing. James had been so convinced…

"Lily says you've been meditating," James interrupted his thoughts.

"Yes."

"Has it helped?"

"A little." Honestly, the meditation did help him put things back into place once Remus managed to untangle them. He was feeling less empty. The problem was that there were pieces of the puzzle that did not make sense. Like the mysterious journal. And the little boy. What part of his mind was broken so completely that he did not even recognize it? Where had those shards of recollection come from? And his inability to remember why Voldemort wanted to kill him persisted. His crippling fear of remembering. Sirius did not know everything. He was going mad. He thought back to his conversation with Lily. " _You'll need to let it out eventually, before it eats you from the inside out."_ She was smart. Remus could feel it eating at him. _But I'm not ready; I don't understand everything yet._

"Sorry about the yelling," Sirius said. He was always quick to anger and quick to cool down.

"No, you're right," Remus sighed. "I need to trust you. I can't do this alone. But...I'm not ready to share everything yet."

"You will be one day, though, right?" James probed.

"I will." His closest friends nodded in acceptance.

"I wish…" James trailed away. Then he inhaled deeply and started again. "Will things be the same again?"

Remus wanted to reassure James, but he found himself unable to speak. Because Remus knew the painful truth since he was four years old. Things wouldn't be the same. But James would need to figure that out for himself. He looked sympathetically at James, who seemed to understand that he could not answer. So he asked a different question.

"Do you think you could handle a little research for Dumbledore? Moody asked me yesterday."

Remus brightened. Doing something useful for the Order sounded wonderful. "Of course," he replied.

"Good, because I kind of implied that you would."

"Speaking of Moody, shouldn't you both be at work?"

"He gave us the morning off," Sirius shrugged. Remus inwardly thanked Moody.

"But he has some kind of covert mission starting for us this afternoon," James said, looking excited. "For the Order, not for the aurors. We'll be looking into Voldemort's level of influence at the Ministry. He thinks that Augustus Rookwood of the Department of Mysteries is up to something."

"What does he think-" But Remus cut himself off. A pearly wolverine floated into the room through the neutral-toned wall and spoke in Moody's gruff voice.

" _Mass break-out from Azkaban. Entire prison is emptied, except the prisoners that are too far gone. Need you both to come in now."_

For a few seconds, the Marauders watched, stunned, as the wolverine dissipated. Then, like a unit, James and Sirius leapt to their feet.

"Sorry, Moony. Looks like we have to go," Sirius muttered.

"I'll tell Lily that we're leaving," James said, sweeping towards the door. "You should get some sleep, Moony. You look tired."

"But-"

"Don't worry, we'll be back later tonight," Sirius said. Remus scowled.

"I'm not worried."

Sirius winked.

"Of course not." Then he was serious. "Go back to sleep. We'll talk later."

In a flurry of action, James and Sirius had thrown on cloaks, left by the front door, and disapparated. Remus lay back against the couch cushions. He could hear Lily's musical tones upstairs, speaking to Harry. He searched for his wand and found it on the end table by his head. Pointing it at the living room door, he whispered, "Silencio." Then he pulled up his tangled blankets, absently brushed a few black dog hairs off of it, and drifted back into the dark.

* * *

 _November 27, 1981_

 _Dear Dumbledore,_

 _James informed me that you may have some research for me to do. I feel that I have had plenty of time to rest and I am anxious to do something for the Order. Please let me know what you need._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Remus Lupin_

It was a Friday when Remus borrowed the Hogwarts owl that brought them the _Daily Prophet_ to send his message to Dumbledore. By Saturday afternoon, he had a reply. Dumbledore wanted to meet with him the following day. He would be bringing Madame Pomfrey to check up on him as well. Remus was secretly glad that Sirius had Order and auror duties on Sunday. And James was helping Nelson Hapley move out of St. Mungo's back home to his wife and daughter. If the two of them were here, they would hover and get in the matron's way.

Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey arrived via the floo network. The Headmaster arrived first, spinning out of the fireplace in a swirl of amethyst robes. Remus noted for the first time that his hair and beard were mostly silver-white. Any remaining streaks of auburn that the Headmaster had when they were in school were now ashy blond. Madame Pomfrey even had a small amount of grey in her temples. She was wearing her customary matron's uniform and had a leather bag that was full of clinking potions across her torso.

"Good day, Remus," Dumbledore said, his half-moon glasses sparkling pleasantly. "I hope you are feeling well."

"Yes, sir," Remus replied. Madame Pomfrey bustled around the Headmaster and clucked at Remus' appearance.

"Too thin, Mr. Lupin. I want you to start gaining weight. You still look like you still live with Greyback's pack."

"I'll try, Madame," Remus said. She huffed and glared at him affectionately.

"You'll do more than try. I'll tell Mr. Black if you don't. He'd be happy to keep an eye on you for me."

"That won't be necessary," Remus said quickly, thinking of how overbearing Sirius could be when he was worried. If the matron encouraged him, Remus would never hear the end of it. Dumbledore chuckled at Remus' expression.

"I won't be too long," Madame Pomfrey continued, digging through her bag and pulling out bottles of potion. "You and the Headmaster have business to attend to." Her wand flicked and Remus felt the warm tingle of a diagnostic spell. She studied the multi-colored aura that appeared around him, muttering to herself. Remus shifted on his feet.

"You have not been sleeping, Remus," Dumbledore observed. He settled into an armchair and folded his long-figured, papery hands. Remus had the awkward sense that Dumbledore knew exactly why he had not been sleeping.

"I've been getting enough," Remus replied. Madame Pomfrey made a small disbelieving noise and pulled a small phial out of her bag.

"Here. Dreamless Sleep Potion. I can't give you too much, it can be highly addictive, but at least for tonight you can get some rest." Feeling transparent, Remus watched her place the phial on the coffee table. Had James and Sirius said anything? Probably not. He still put silencing charms on his room the last two nights, despite their counsel not to do so. "Your nerves have also healed well. Have you noticed any loss of feeling, any tingling?"

"No," he replied, clenching his left fist. He decided not to tell her about the tremor that still worked its way through his fingers. He was pretty sure it was not nerve-related.

"Good. Then you won't need this." She returned a purple potion to her bag. "Your muscles seem a little tense still."

"They're always tense."

"Well, either way, I'm going to give you this." She placed a tin next to the vial of Dreamless Sleep. "It's just tea, your usual Earl Grey, but I've added a small dose of a tasteless muscle relaxant. It might help with the back and neck pain and the headaches."

"Thank you." He did not ask how she knew about the little daily pains he experienced. Less headaches would be a blessing, especially with little Harry around. He loved James' son, but he could be a handful.

"And now let's move on from the body to the mind. How is the meditation going?"

"Fine," Remus answered. The matron gave him a penetrating stare and he relinquished a little more information. "I space out sometimes… It has helped sort through some things. But I'm still having trouble placing them."

"Hmm," she hummed, brow furrowed in thought. "Well, that's something, I suppose. The mind is a mysterious place." She paused and inspected him with a critical eye. "How is your magic?"

"What do you mean?" Remus asked evasively.

"Any outbursts? Trouble with control or concentration?"

Dumbledore leaned forward slightly, a motion Remus did not miss. He scratched his eyebrow, wishing he were not in a room with two of the most perceptive people he knew. He crafted his answer carefully. "It used to be worse."

"I'm a healer, Remus. You have to tell the truth."

Remus sighed. "Outbursts occasionally. I used to be pretty good at elemental wandless magic, but it's… different now. Harder."

Pomfrey exchanged a glance with Dumbledore. "Wandless magic is fairly advanced, Remus. You should not expect so much of yourself so early. Unfortunately the only advice I have is that it will take time and practice. Like strengthening weakened muscles."

"I thought as much."

"I wish I could help you more, my dear."

"You've done plenty," Remus said, feeling a rush of warmth towards the woman who had taken care of him since he was eleven. "I really could not thank you enough."

Madame Pomfrey smiled. "It is my pleasure and honor, my dear." She patted him on the arm and sniffed. "Well," she breathed out loudly. "He's all yours, Albus. And don't give him too much." She gathered her things, stepped into the fireplace, and gave a little spastic wave. Then she threw the green floo powder at her feet.

"Hogwarts!"

She was gone in a flash of emerald flame. Then it was just Remus and Dumbledore. Dumbledore was quiet for a moment and watched Remus take a seat. The afternoon sun of dying autumn shone through the windows, pale and watery.

"She really cares about you, Remus," he said eventually. "You're like a son to her."

Unsure of what to say, Remus merely nodded.

"I remember when I told her I had accepted you into the school," the older man reminisced. "She did not even blink. All business, asking what she should expect and what potions she would need to prepare. One of the few who did not question my decision to let you come to Hogwarts. Minerva was another. And you became one of the most dedicated and talented students in the school. Now look at how you've grown." Embarrassed, Remus looked at his feet, away from the Headmaster. "Forgive my sentimentality, Remus. Old men find comfort in the past."

"You're not the only one, sir," Remus said quietly.

"Please, call me Albus. You are no longer a student."

"Right. Albus." It felt strange to address the elderly wizard by his first name.

"Before we begin, I feel that I owe you an apology, Remus."

"Sir-Albus?"

"Yes, I do," Dumbledore said heavily. "I have put your life in a great deal of danger in the last year. I knew when I asked you to be a spy amongst the werewolves I was asking a lot. Perhaps too much."

"I was ready-made," Remus reasoned. "And I gained valuable intel."

"Is that a good excuse to endanger a friend?" Dumbledore asked softly. "You may be right. But war makes fools of us all. It's getting harder to see the difference between right and wrong. I'm sorry for what you've been through."

"It wasn't your fault," Remus said numbly.

"Yes, but some was, and I take responsibility for that."

"You're already forgiven, then."

Dumbledore's face softened. "Thank you, Remus."

"And I'm sorry too. About the article…"

"Nonsense Remus. Bad press is the least of my worries. And worth protecting you. Now, let's move on to the research I am asking you to do." Out of thin air, Dumbledore conjured a handful of books. Remus recognized some from their escapades in the restricted section of the library. Others he had never seen in his life. The corner of Dumbledore's mouth twitched. "There are books that are even banned from the restricted section of the Hogwarts library."

"Oh. Of course." Remus tried to look innocent, but knew he was failing. Dumbledore turned grave again.

"The research I want for you to do is two-fold. Firstly, I want you to investigate prophecies and their origins."

"Prophecies?"

"Yes. I have provided you with a word-for-word copy of the prophecy concerning Voldemort's downfall. This is more out of concern about Rookwood's dealings in the Department of Mysteries than anything. If Voldemort is trying to find a way to steal the prophecy, I would like to know how and what he hopes to gain. Prophecies are mysterious things. It is pointless to try to interpret them, but at this moment, it is in our best interest to do so. At least we'll be on the same ground as Voldemort."

Remus took a proffered envelope from Dumbledore and slid out a slip of parchment. On it was the baffling prophecy that was plaguing the Potters and the Longbottoms.

' _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..._ '

An uneasy feeling settled in Remus' stomach as he read the exact words of the prophecy for the first time. Somehow, knowing it completely made its prediction much more inescapable. He hated the idea of Harry facing the Dark Lord, even if it occurred many years from now. He folded the paper along the already-made creases and put it back in the envelope.

"The second thing is of a more delicate and dark nature. Death and immortality."

For the first time, Dumbledore's piercing blue gaze moved from Remus' face to the wizened, folded hands in his lap. Remus saw something flicker in his eyes. Sadness? Shame?

"Specifically, I need you to focus on means of defeating death. I have already begun this research, but found that I needed to stop. I have certain...short-sightedness that you do not have."

"What do you mean?"

"Remus, there are times when we are given undue praise from the world. I have made mistakes in my life, mistakes that have cost me a great deal. As I said, war makes fools." Dumbledore seemed to shrink in the chair as he spoke. He seemed less like the powerful wizard he was and more like a man shrunken and aged by regrets. "I found ghosts of my mistakes rising again in my research. I need a clearer set of eyes. I was not lying when I said you are one of the best."

Remus stared at the Headmaster. Everything from the past few days welled up in his mind. He _was_ one of the best. But now he was damaged, spiralling, compromised. "What about my ghosts?" Remus whispered. "Professor-Albus-I'm not...healthy yet. There are things I can't...I don't know how to fix. In my head, I mean-"

Dumbledore's gaze lifted back to Remus. His eyes were compassionate, but unyielding. "You are not broken, Remus. I trust you to do this and do it well. And I will still be here to aid you. As will your friends, who I know are devoted to your well-being."

Remus felt a weight lift from his lungs. Someone trusted him to think clearly. Slowly, he nodded. He could not let Dumbledore down. "Okay. Okay, I can do the research. But why immortality?"

"Voldemort," Dumbledore answered. "He is gaining ground. The latest break-out from Azkaban proves he is getting stronger, more powerful. He is making plans that require larger ranks. But he has a weakness. Something he said to me long ago...he fears death, Remus. He fears dying more than he loves power. And that is why I think he would have done something, something beyond regular magical means, to avoid it."

 _An overwhelming fear, a fear of dying…_

" _...further, perhaps, than they have ever been pushed."_

" _...believe I've still got some humanity left."_

The young werewolf shook himself. The memories were like hot knives in his mind and he fought for control. He was in the living room. The sun was shining through the windows, alighting on Dumbledore's beard and lining it in bright argent threads. Behind the half-moon glasses, the elderly wizard regarded him with keen eyes.

"Sorry," Remus murmured, abashed. "I...was lost in thought."

"You'll find yourself again, my boy," Dumbledore said. The embers in the fireplace popped and Remus heard the kettle in the kitchen whistle shrilly.

"Would you like to stay for tea?"

"Tea sounds lovely, but I must return to Hogwarts." Dumbledore stood. Instead of leaving right away, however, he reached into his purple robes and removed two items. Remus instantly recognized the liquid folds of James' invisibility cloak. "I borrowed this from James in September, but it is time he had it back. I'll leave it with you."

It struck Remus as odd that Dumbledore had needed to borrow the Invisibility Cloak, but he did not comment. The second item was a book. Dumbledore held it for a few seconds and brushed imaginary dust from the cover. Remus got the feeling that he was witnessing a rarely seen struggle in the powerful wizard. Dumbledore placed it next to the pile of ancient tomes and said softly, "A gift for Harry. My copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_. It is time I passed it on."

Then, the Headmaster adjusted his robes and swept towards the fireplace. He took a handful of floo powder and stepped inside.

"Farewell Remus, and good luck."

"I'll report anything I find."

"I look forward to our next meeting."

"Good-bye, Albus."

Then Dumbledore was gone. Remus surveyed the collection of books and potions left on the coffee table. His mind was sound enough for this. Breathing deeply, he brushed away threads of strange memories and focused on his hand. _Incendio._

Blue flames gathered on his scarred skin, crackling with warmth. Remus held the spell as long as he could, enjoying the mesmerizing light and the tickling on his palm. Then the flames extinguished. The place where they had been dancing felt cold and empty. Like the void that constantly pressed on the edges of his mind. It would be there for the rest of his life, he realized, as permanent as the bite mark on his shoulder. The knowledge settled inside his marrow. He had no choice but to accept it as part of himself.

Strangely, the air he was breathing felt lighter.

He stood and left the living room, bringing only the collection of children's stories with him. Maybe Harry would enjoy hearing _The Wizard and the Hopping Pot_ over tea.

* * *

a/n: **the prophecy regarding Harry Potter and the Dark Lord first appears in _The Order of the Phoenix_ by J.K. Rowling.


	15. The Riddled Mind (Sirius)

Hi there, your reviews make me happy. Seriously, you people are awesome.

-Cat

* * *

Chapter 15

 _The Riddled Mind (Sirius)_

The office of Sirius Black was trashed. Piles of litter layered the threadbare rug and the scratched desk. The bottom layer consisted of books and discarded inter-departmental memos. The middle layer was a detritus of half-filled forms, old _Daily Prophet's_ , more memos, and even a chocolate frog card here and there. Empty take-out containers, dried owl droppings, and fresh forms built the top layers. Even the walls were covered. One had a complicated map of wanted pictures, locations, and newspaper clippings. Gold and red thread connected these, all leading to a crudely drawn stick figure of Voldemort at the top. 'F U Moldyshorts' was written in carelessly elegant handwriting over the stick figure. Another wall hosted a bookshelf that was disorganized and filled with random objects in addition to dust-covered books. There was a door next to the shelf leading into the rest of the auror department.

The only wall that seemed to have been carefully arranged was the wall with a window showing perpetual October weather. Surrounding the window were pictures. Most of them depicted the Marauders at Hogwarts or in the Potter Manor. A pudgy blond boy had been scribbled out in the majority of these. A few were photos of a wedding between a stunning red-head and James Potter. Then there were newer photos of a baby boy. There was also a corkboard filled with letters in various handwritings, some chicken scratch, and two varieties of neat cursive. On the floor below the corkboard were crumbled letters written in careful print.

In the midst of it all was the man himself, sound asleep, his head pillowed on his arms. Sirius had risen through the auror ranks quickly since he finished training. No one besides Mad-Eye Moody had clocked more hours in the field than Sirius Black. Since the escalation of the war with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the only reason Sirius left the office was because of obligations to his family (not his blood-relatives, but the family he found at Hogwarts) and duties for Dumbledore's secret order. It was little wonder the man was exhausted. He snored loudly (an accusation he vehemently denied). His mane of black hair was un-coiffed and tangled. His watch read three o'clock in the afternoon. At precisely a minute past three, the door banged open.

The effect was instantaneous. Sirius shot up, red marks on his face from his wrinkled robes, and pulled out a wand from his pants pocket. The man who entered held up his hands in a defensive posture.

"Stand down, Black," he said quickly. The man had blond hair, freckles, and a friendly face, despite a pink scar that now ran diagonally across it. His unassuming appearance often made it easy for dark wizards to underestimate him. But there was no doubt that Nelson Hapley was an outstanding auror.

"Sweet Merlin, Hapley, ever heard of knocking?" Sirius sputtered, lowering his wand.

"Sorry, in a rush," Hapley apologized. "James is my next stop. Diagon Alley is under attack. Portkey leaves in two minutes from the bullpen." As the senior auror spoke, three owls flew over his head with interdepartmental memos, colored red for emergency.

"Damn it," Sirius cursed, shooing the owls away. They really needed a better way to send memos. He followed Hapley out of his office, the owls hooting indignantly behind them. The auror department was like an anthill, witches and wizards running back and forth, more owls zooming along the ceiling. Sirius allowed the general flow to carry him to the bullpen, a central room filled with desks and grunt-working interns typing furiously on typewriters. Sirius' height was an advantage as he scanned over the heads of the aurors collecting around various mundane objects. A minute passed, then he saw the head of messy black hair he was searching for. Sirius pushed his way to his best friend.

"Ready Prongs?"

"When am I not, Padfoot?" James responded grimly. Together they grasped a rusty teakettle. Hapley stood with them, as well as Mad-Eye Moody, Frank Longbottom, and a young, curly-haired witch called Ava Finch.

"Frank, welcome back!" Sirius said with a grin.

"Good to be back," Frank replied, but his expression was grim. "Quite the welcome party. Diagon Alley, what in the name of Merlin does he want there?"

There was no time to answer. Sirius felt a hook jerk behind his navel and the ground disappeared. Sound was vacuumed from his ears for three, two, one-

His feet slammed into packed snow and the temperature dropped. Wind whipped his cloak away, exposing him to the cold, but Sirius barely noticed. Diagon Alley was a warzone. Screams and explosions rent the air. Smoke and sulphur stung his nose. To his left, a window imploded. Sirius instinctively ducked as a green light streaked over his head. Death Eaters were everywhere, hooded and masked in frightening visages. Sirius spun. Two cloaked men were bearing down on Florean Fortescue, who was fighting fiercely.

"Stupefy!" Sirius shouted. Taken by surprise, one of the Death Eaters collapsed. Fortescue nodded tight thanks and continued to duel the second, driving him back.

"Cover each other," Mad-Eye ordered over the din. "First priority is get the shop-owners, shoppers, and residents to safety. If they want to stay and fight, let them. Evacuation Portkeys leave every three minutes from the Leaky Cauldron and Gringotts. Go!"

It was chaos. Sirius stuck by James as best he could, but soon they were separated. Frank and Finch drove back a group of four Death Eaters from Flourish and Blotts, papers gyring outward like a tornado. Sirius joined them and they battled furiously, gaining no ground, until Finch yelled, "Duck!"

Sirius dropped to the ground. His hair rippled as a huge wind blasted from the small woman, carrying with it conjured hailstones the size of snitches. The Death Eaters were pummeled by the pellets of ice and fell unconscious in the rubble and paper.

"Damn," Sirius muttered, standing. "That was an impressive meteorologic spell. Where'd you learn that?"

Ava shrugged. "Flitwick."

"Ravenclaw?" Sirius guessed.

"Hufflepuff," she corrected with a smirk. "I was two years below you, Black."

"Oh," he said stupidly. She rolled her eyes and ran towards a villager struggling to free his friend from a fallen beam. Sirius shook his head and rejoined the fray.

Nearby, Hapley threw up a shield charm to protect a group of elderly witches and began to painstakingly fight to the Gringotts evacuation point. Sirius rushed to cover him as a two Death Eaters suddenly apparated in the alleyway nearby. He put one in a full-body bind, blocked a curse from the other. He left him struggling against black ropes within seconds.

Order members were now arriving. Sirius saw Dedalus Diggle, Emmeline Vance, and Edgar Bones. He even spotted Mundungus Fletcher on the rooftops, tossing what seemed to be explosive potions in corked bottles into groups of Death Eaters. Sirius barked out a vicious laugh as one blew Fenrir Greyback into a brick wall.

A scream and a demented cackle rang out from a block ahead. Sirius' blood boiled and he sprinted towards the noise, blasting Death Eaters out of the way as he went. _Bellatrix._

She was not wearing a mask, flaunting her allegiance as she used to when they were children. At her feet, Sturgis Podmore shrieked and writhed under the Cruciatus Curse. Her thick, wild curls bounced gleefully as she danced around him. Sirius shot a stunner at her, which she easily blocked, distracted from her prey. She looked around angrily, but when she saw Sirius a slow, mocking smile spread across her face.

"Aw. Baby Siwius," she simpered, twisting her expression into a comical frown, eyes wide. "Are you angwy with cousin Trixie?"

"Afternoon Bella," Sirius said with deadly calm. "Stupefy!"

She blocked the red spell with a flourish of her wand and giggled. "So tame, little Sirius. Afraid to hurt me?" Podmore was crawling away, but she ignored him, fixated on her cousin.

"Stupefy!" he said again. She skipped out of the way.

"Crucio," she cried. Sirius side-stepped a fired a conjunctivitis curse towards her. She responded with a black spell that seemed to suck away the light as it passed. Sirius grit his teeth. The battle around them started to fade as their duel intensified. They were well-matched, both agile and intelligent.

"What's wrong, Sirius, afraid of a little dark magic?" she taunted as she dodged another disarming spell. Sirius stamped down his irritation. Now was not the time to lose focus. He shot another curse at her; she blocked it.

"You and my sister always were the lesser members of the family. Both a waste of space," she continued, grinning as Sirius' jaw clenched. "Andy, the bitch to the mudblood's carnal pleasures."

"Impedimenta!" Sirius shouted.

"Sectumsempra!"

"Protego!" The spell exploded against his shield.

"And of course you, running around with blood-traitors-" She blocked another spell. "-and dirty _half-breeds_. I hear your wolfie's cuckoo, tries to bite anyone who comes too close. Does that hurt your feelings, Siri-poo?"

Sirius growled under his breath. _Don't rise. Concentrate. She's not worth your anger._ "Reducto!" The cobblestones at her feet blasted apart and she leapt backwards. Shrapnel sliced open her cheek.

"Ha!" Bellatrix crowed, ignoring the blood running down her neck. "That's all you've got?! The Dark Lord will tear the beast limb from limb when he finds where you've been hiding him. _Avada Kedavra!_ " Sirius dove out of the way. The green jet of light hit the shop behind him-Madame Malkin's-and erupted into flames and glass. Sirius rolled up onto his knees and blocked another spell, one he did not recognize. Bellatrix's beautiful face was twisted into an ugly expression, streaked with red.

"You're weak," she hissed. "Just like your idiot little brother."

"Leave him out of this," he spat. There was a sharp pain in his arm. Glass shards penetrated his cloak. A particularly long one was buried in his forearm. He could feel the heat of the flames on his back. He pushed himself back to his feet and Bellatrix let him, glorying in the soft spot she had found.

"Regulus was unfit to serve the Dark Lord. He died a coward."

"Shut up!"

"No one runs from the Dark Lord's service. Regulus deserved death."

"I said shut up!" Sirius shot another curse at her but it flew wildly above her head in his anger. She laughed maniacally and screeched, "Crucio!" again. This time Sirius did not move quickly enough.

Agony shot through his limbs and he fell to the ground. Someone was screaming. Was that him? The pain seemed to last an eternity. Everything ceased to exist but the torture, the combustion of his nerves…

"No, _Padfoot_!"

The pain stopped abruptly and Sirius was gasping, clutching his wand. Slush soaked through his clothes and chilled his skin. Disorientated, he scrambled to his hands in knees. His hair clung to his face, drenched in icy water, but he could still see. James was driving Bellatrix back, face set in fury. Sirius struggled to draw air into his lungs and stood, trying to get to James. He took one step towards the dueling pair.

Then his insides congealed in horror.

Voldemort materialized behind Bellatrix without a sound. His pale face was impassive and his black robes flickered like shadows. For a brief moment, the battling witches and wizards in the area froze. Then terrified screams ripped through Diagon Alley. The Death Eaters laughed at the fear that was spreading from the epicenter, their master. The panic was contagious, Sirius could feel it in his gut, but he stamped it down. James was too close, he was distracted by Bellatrix.

"Prongs!" Sirius shouted in warning. James glanced behind the witch. The only sign that he had seen the dark wizard was a slight change in posture. But the distraction was enough. Bellatrix shrieked something, her wand slashing through the air, and a streak of purple light shot across James' chest. James collapsed.

"NO!"

Sirius ran to his fallen friend. Voldemort raised his wand, red eyes fixed on James, the man who drove him away from his victim in Malfoy Manor...

"Protego!" Sirius roared. A shield expanded between James and Voldemort. Sirius stumbled to James and hurled himself in front of him. The Death Eaters started pummeling the shield with offensive spells, a barrage of white explosions shook against Sirius' concentration. "Come on," he growled. _He's not dead, he's not dead, he's not dead…_ Sirius struggled to hold his shield. It was fading...dying…

 _Crack!_

Several things happened at once. Sirius' shield exploded. He threw himself on top of James' body. Wind rushed through his hair as several spells narrowly missed his head. Then everything went utterly still and a single voice rang out.

"It was foolish to come here today, Tom."

Dumbledore sounded completely serene. Sirius glanced around. The Headmaster was standing tall and forbidding, radiating power. His back was to Sirius, hands at his sides, wand loosely held in his right. Voldemort's eyes narrowed.

"Dumbledore. Coming to the rescue again, are you?" he said. His voice was soft and mocking. "You were too late for your pet werewolf. And nearly too late for your precious Gryffindors."

"Enough, Tom," Dumbledore commanded. He sounded nothing like the exhausted old man who oversaw school feasts and order meetings. This was a powerful wizard, strong and undefeated. "Take your followers and leave. You will accomplish nothing more here."

"But I have accomplished something," Voldemort hissed. "I've gotten your attention."

The Death Eaters were unmoving, watching their master. Voldemort tilted his head in amusement. Then, without warning, he attacked. With a speed and agility Sirius did not know he possessed, Dumbledore responded.

The display of sheer magic was staggering. They clashed like thunder against each other. It was like watching the night trying to swallow all the energy of the sun. Sirius dragged James away from the two forces of light and dark. He did not recognize half the spells Voldemort used. Dumbledore thwarted every attack. Dangerous shards of ice were melted into a stream of water that transformed into a fiery bird to attack Voldemort. The bird turned to a black smoke and solidified into a snake that struck at the Headmaster. But Dumbledore severed it into nothing with his wand. Killing curses flew from Voldemort's wand, but none hit Dumbledore. Pieces of wall and chunks of the street flew up to shield bystanders from the deadly green light. With graceful ferocity, Dumbledore fought Voldemort back, away from Sirius and James.

Then, all at once, the fighting stopped. Voldemort appeared almost winded and was staring at Dumbledore in disbelief. And more unsettling, he started to laugh, quietly at first, and then loudly, until it echoed through the damaged alleyway. Only sobs of pain and fear joined the eerie laughter.

"Impressive, professor," said the Dark Lord. "But not enough. All of this-" he swept a spidery and at the destruction and the injured. "This is on you, Dumbledore. This is a warning. You will not be able to hide the children of the prophecy and the werewolf much longer. This is only the beginning. Soon your pathetic band of blood traitors and mudbloods will be begging you to hand them over, as they weep over loved ones who died in vain."

Then, without another word, Voldemort disappeared. As if this were a command, every Death Eater followed, excluding the ones that were stunned or bound in black ropes.

Sirius did not take time to survey the wreckage of Diagon Alley. He returned his attention to his best friend. James' eyes were closed behind his cracked glasses. Tiny snowflakes lit on his lips, which were almost as pale as the white flecks. True fear gripped Sirius has he felt for a pulse in James' neck. At first their was nothing. Sirius held his breath. Then, a faint pulse brushed against his fingers.

"Prongs?" he whispered.

James stayed still as a corpse. Sirius felt someone crouch down next to him, but he could not look away from James. He was alive, but something was very wrong.

"James?" he said, shaking him.

"He needs to go to St. Mungo's Sirius," Dumbledore said gently.

"What's wrong with him?" Sirius asked.

"I don't know," Dumbledore responded. He called someone over then summoned a piece of brick. "Portus. Here, Sirius, take this."

"Lily…"

"I will send a Patronus. She can meet you at St. Mungo's."

"But Harry-"

"Remus will look after him. Hand on the brick Sirius. Arthur and Emmeline will go with you."

Numb and in shock, Sirius allowed Dumbledore to guide his hand to the portkey. Someone with red hair-Arthur Weasley-knelt down and took the brick as well. He was supporting Emmeline Vance, who was clutching her middle, white as a ghost. Red specked her nostrils and lips. Sirius gripped James' shoulder harder. Then, for the second time that day, Sirius felt the ground disappear.

* * *

The snow was falling thickly through the dark when Sirius apparated to Kent Cottage. The windows of the house spilled gold light onto the white plane of the front yard. Sirius felt his stomach rumble and realized he had not eaten since breakfast that morning. Despite his body's grumbled communication, he did not have any appetite. He entered by the front door and shook snow from his boots and muttered a drying spell. Footsteps hurried down the hallway, then Remus appeared, pale-faced, with baby Harry in one arm and the other holding out his wand.

"It's just Padfoot, Moony," Sirius said. Remus shakily lowered his arm.

"James?"

"He's going to be okay." Remus' knees nearly buckled, but he steadied himself and adjusted Harry on his hip.

"Thank Merlin," he breathed.

"Sorry we couldn't get the news to you sooner," Sirius said, feeling suddenly guilty that Remus had gone the whole day without a word of news. But then, the hospital had not been much better. "It was touch and go for a while. But they know what hit him. He'll have to stay at St. Mungo's for a little while."

"I should have been there," Remus growled. It was the first time he showed any frustration at being stuck in the cottage for weeks.

"The Death Eaters would have swarmed you. You'd be dead now if you were there," Sirius said wearily.

Remus exhaled and eyed Sirius critically. "You don't look too good yourself, Padfoot," he observed.

"I'm fine," Sirius replied. He did not want to focus on himself right now. Remus raised an eyebrow at him in disbelief. Sirius stared back, mentally begging the werewolf to let it go for now. Luckily, Harry broke the silent battle.

"Moom, Pafu, story!"

"That's right, cub. We were going to read a story," Remus said. He spared Sirius one more glance, but turned back to the hallway. "Come on, Padfoot!" he called back. Sirius chuckled hoarsely and followed, ignoring the fatigue tugging at him. Remus was settling Harry in his lap in the nursery when Sirius entered. The enchanted stars on the ceiling glowed brightly. Harry busily gathered his stuffed stag, wolf, and dog around himself. Rubbing his still stinging forearm, Sirius conjured a second chair next to the pair and sank gratefully into it. A healthy dose of innocence is what he needed to cure the ache in his chest.

" _Babbity Rabbity and her Cackling Stump_ ," Remus began in a sing-song voice. Sirius laughed softly, then settled back and closed his eyes. "'Long ago in a far off land, there lived a foolish king who decided that he alone should have the power of magic…'"

Sirius felt his conscious mind drift away into a light doze, letting Remus' rhythmic reading soothe the shredded nerves from the day. _This is what it should be like_ , he thought vaguely. He could almost imagine that James and Lily were enjoying date night while he and Remus babysat, instead of one comatose and the other anxiously pacing sterile white hallways. For the first time in years, he let the war fall away and allowed himself a small escape. He was not riddled with guilt. James was healthy. Lily could relax. Remus was not haunted. Peter…

 _Don't think about Peter._

It was too late. The mouse-haired boy of his childhood popped the fantasy. How dare he be kind? How dare he know exactly how to cheer Sirius up when he was angry at Regulus? The rat ruined it all. Sirius wished they had never met.

He puffed a breath and realized that the nursery was very quiet. Opening his eyes, he checked on Remus and Harry. Harry was sound asleep, leaning back against the werewolf's worn jumper, hands lightly clutching the stag. But Remus was fully conscious, his gaze fixed on the open book he held in one scarred hand. His knuckles were white.

"Moony?" Sirius whispered. Remus blinked.

"Hmm?"

"You okay?"

"Fine." It was Sirius' turn to raise a skeptical brow.

"You seem tense."

"I said I'm fine, Padfoot," Remus snapped. He seemed to instantly regret doing so and took a calming breath. "Sorry. Just tired. Let's just...go to bed." Something was definitely wrong. Remus stood and closed the book, placing it on the rocking chair. He gingerly lowered the sleeping one-year-old into his crib and covered him with a blanket. Then, with a soft, "Good night," he left the nursery.

Sirius listened to his footsteps descend the stairs to the lower floor and the echo of his bedroom door shutting. Once he was sure that Remus would not come back up, Sirius opened the book to the final page of _Babbity Rabbity and her Cackling Stump_. On the next page started a new story, _The Tale of Three Brothers_. A tiny scribbled drawing in the corner caught Sirius' attention: a triangular eye with a line going down the center.

* * *

Sirius' watch on the bedside table glowed, the thirteen hands displaying the date of the next day and the time: 2:13 a.m. He could not banish the feeling of uselessness. James was beyond his help. Lily had not returned home yet. Remus flat out refused help. A part of Sirius wondered if that was because the old trust between them was irreparably broken.

Rolling over and swinging his feet off his bed, he rubbed his face. Fighting for sleep was pointless tonight. He stood and heard a soft click of a door, then a series of padding steps into the kitchen. So he was not the only insomniac tonight. He hesitated, hating this sudden uncertainty when it came to his friendship with Remus. Years ago he would have marched right after him and demanded that he share everything that was burdening him over cocoa. Or firewhiskey.

He made a quick decision and exited his bedroom. A lamp was lit on the kitchen table and the werewolf hunched over a glass of amber liquid. Despite his sharp hearing, Remus had clearly not noticed Sirius' entrance. His calm mask had dropped, revealing a frighteningly complex range of emotion. Sirius sighed.

"Budge up," he muttered, seating himself across from Remus and conjuring a glass. Remus startled, sloshing a small amount of his drink on his hands.

"Now look at what you've done, Padfoot," he groaned, mask coming back together.

"Your fault, going all moony like that, Moony." The joke was weak, but Remus granted him a small smile. He took the bottle of firewhiskey and poured some into Sirius' glass. Then he proceeded to take a small sip of his own.

"I should not be drinking this late," he said to himself.

"And yet here we are," said Sirius wryly. Remus chuckled, but his eyes stayed a dull umber. The single lamp cast shadows on his cheeks and eye sockets, making him more hollow and brooding than usual. Even his hair looked completely gray.

"I was on spying duty for the order last night," Sirius said in an attempt at conversation. "Following Rookwood under the invisibility cloak. Almost got trampled by a herd of Crouch's MLE officers when I wasn't looking." He took a sip of his firewhiskey. Remus said nothing, so Sirius continued. "I forgot that Barty Crouch had a kid until I saw the bloke. I remember him now. Hair like straw. Rookwood pulled him aside, but I missed their conversation. What do you think Rookwood wanted with him?"

No response. The werewolf appeared to be deep in thought, wrestling with something unseen. Sirius sighed and steeled himself.

"You gonna say what's on your mind or am I going to have to dig?"

"No digging tonight," Remus replied wearily.

"So what, are we just going to sit here silently?"

"No." He took a deep breath and let it out loudly. "I'm saying that I'm...that I might be...I'm ready to talk through some things. If you'll listen." Remus glanced at him through his gray-brown fringe.

"I'll always listen," Sirius replied sincerely, all sarcasm vanished. Remus' fingers trembled slightly as he took a gulp of whiskey and avoided his gaze. The thick silence stretched, but Sirius waited.

"He wanted me to lose my mind."

Remus spoke so suddenly that Sirius' heart skipped a beat. But he did not dare move or speak, afraid to startle his friend into reticence again.

"And he was so close. There were only...tiny parts of me left when you came. It was like the wolf only...it would have been permanent. He wanted me permanently and completely broken before ending it." Another shuddering breath. His voice was halting. "And he was somewhat successful. I'm...I'm not really back together yet. I'm messed up and sometimes I'm confused. I've always been terrified of the wolf taking over, but I never thought I'd have to face losing my mind every _single_ day. Asking every day why he did this to me…"

"Moony…" _I did this to you._

"I think...I think I know why." Remus cut across Sirius' soft entreaty to rest. It was like he could not stop, momentum carrying him on. And now his tone changed. It was steady, stronger. "He had been...searching for information on the Order. He couldn't find it. By the end, he had almost emptied me of everything but the wolf. I almost forgot you, what friends were. But not fully. There was a moment, in my head; you were entering the Shack. My mind cleared…"

Sirius felt like his tongue was lead. His muscles were tense as he listened with horrified fascination to Remus' tale. But Remus seemed to be coming to a conclusion. His chocolate eyes caught Sirius' blue, bright with a strange mix of fear and wonder. A veil was lifting. "I know why he wants to kill me. I turned it on him. His own legilimency, I don't know how. I _saw_ him, Padfoot. These pieces that don't fit are not _my_ memories. Sirius, I know what Riddle values. I know what he fears, what he despises more than anything."

Sirius was transfixed, struggling to understand. "What...what does that mean?" he whispered.

"It means I'm not going mad," Remus said firmly. There was a fierce cast to his shadowed face. "I'm sane enough to remember him. I'm going to figure out why Voldemort fears my rational mind more than death. And trust me Padfoot, his fear of death consumes his every thought."

The quietness that fell over the kitchen after Remus finished speaking was not heavy like before. It was like a slow inhale. Sirius felt the spark of it across his skin and in his gut. No wonder Voldemort was focusing energy into eradicating Remus Lupin from the earth, from all sanity. Remus escaped with a piece of the Dark Lord. He had seen the soul of Tom Riddle.

* * *

a/n: Disclaimer: Not only do I not own the Harry Potter Series, I also don't own The Tales of Beedle the Bard. Just in case that wasn't clear...

Anyway, thoughts? Comments? Concerns?


	16. Silent Night (Lily)

Yes, it is May. But it's time for the Christmas chapter, so... sorry to you people who only like Christmas when it is Christmas...I can't help the pre-established timeline. Enjoy!

-Cat

* * *

Chapter 16

 _Silent Night (Lily)_

Lily pulled another ornament out of a box and let out an undignified snort. She was beginning to regret allowing Sirius to contribute to the tree decorations. From where he disentangling a roll of tinsel from Harry, Remus looked up.

"He cannot seriously think we'll hang this on the tree?" she asked. "We have guests coming. Actual guests with actual senses of propriety."

"Ah," Remus said in understanding. Lily held up the bikini-clad girls on a motorcycle so that it caught the morning sun. "They sing too. Deck the Halls or something."

"Merlin," Lily breathed. "Can we just...pretend we missed it?"

"It's his favorite."

Lily rolled her eyes. "It's going on the back."

"He'll move it."

"I'll move it back." Lily circled around the sparkling spruce and slid the loop of wire over a sprig of evergreen. The tiny porcelain girls jostled and immediately sang in tinny voices, "Deck the halls with boughs of holly, tra-la-la-la-laaaa-"

"Silencio!"

Lily emerged from behind the tree and saw Remus aiming his wand through the branches. He shrugged. "He's had it since fourth year. Damn thing. We'll have to re-charm it later."

"It's singing the muggle version," Lily observed.

"To annoy his parents. James' idea."

"Remind me to shout at him for that when he gets home." Despite her words, Lily felt contentment wash over her. James was coming home. The Healers declared him fit to leave the hospital, as long as he followed a strict regimen of potions. Lily happily dove back into the box of ornaments. Just in time for Christmas. She had awakened early this morning to Sirius emerging from the cold dawn, pulling a miniaturized tree out of his pocket. The man was in unusually high spirits.

"It's Christmas Eve, Mrs. Potter!" he boomed joyfully, restoring the tree to its original size. A small bluebird flew out of it and twittered angrily. "We'd best decorate the tree before the wounded warrior returns!"

"Padfoot, must you be so loud," Remus groaned from down the hallway. "It's 6 a.m."

"Good time to be awake, my Moony friend!" Sirius teased. He had also miraculously produced storage boxes of ornaments that had been left behind in the scuffle of going into hiding. Then after another cup of coffee and successfully dragging Remus from his room, he went into the office for his morning shift, humming as he donned his coat. Remus was left to chase the unfortunate bluebird out the back door.

Grumbling and downing a full pot of tea, Remus remained awake to help with the tree. Eventually, Harry woke and joined them, cheerfully making a mess of every box. After the first ornament broke, Remus hastily charmed the rest to be unbreakable so Harry could amuse himself safely. Lily was glad for his help. She had insisted that they decorate the tree the muggle way, so it was turning into quite a project. It turned out that between her and James, Sirius, and Remus, they had quite a few ornaments. Remus rarely complained, but on this morning, he found a few occasions to insert a dig against Sirius for waking him up. The full moon was only a few days away and he had large bags under his eyes.

"Bloody Padfoot and his bloody morning habits," he muttered to himself now. He had managed to release Harry from the tinsel. Now the boy was throwing multi-colored bulbs against the wall and clapping. Remus expertly ignored this and pulled out the last of his ornaments. It was another seashell, this time a playful sunset of colors. It was the seventh that Remus had hung on the tree.

"Why seashells?"

"My mum," Remus replied softly. When Lily motioned for an explanation, he smiled and obliged. "She said they had a kind of magic of their own. She loved the ocean. Seashells let you hear the voice of the ocean, even when you have to leave it behind. She said…" He stopped. Lily looked up at him. He was looping the gold thread connected to the shell over a branch. His face was pensive.

"Remus?"

"Sorry," he said. "I was just… remembering something… Anyway, she used to say that seashells could teach you a lot about recalling the things that leave us. And letting them go."

"It's… kind of sad, isn't it?"

"Yes. It is."

The conversation died, leaving the room a little dimmer. Harry threw another bulb at the wall, which bounced off and hit Remus in the leg.

"Come here, you rascal," Remus chuckled, chasing after Harry, who yelled in delight and scrambled out of reach. Remus laughed, which morphed into a yawn. "Padfoot better not wake us at the crack of dawn tomorrow. He used to do that at school on weekends just to mess with us."

"Has he always been like this?" Lily asked.

"Unfortunately. The man has far too much energy. And it gets worse around Christmas. He hated the holiday until he came to Hogwarts."

"Why?"

"Black family Christmases are not the most pleasant experience from what I've heard," Remus responded with a sympathetic grimace. "We had to re-educate him."

"Well it seems that you've done well," Lily said wryly. She unwrapped an ornament that looked suspiciously like a scantily-clad Madame Rosmerta. "Oh really!" Remus guffawed loudly.

By the time they finished with the tree, it was eleven o'clock, time to go and get James. Remus took Harry and promised to have lunch ready by the time they returned. The two people on Voldemort's most-wanted list were still not allowed out of the house. Lily took the floo network directly to James' room, which had been specially arranged by the St. Mungo's staff since they were technically also still under protection.

James was sitting on his bed, tying his trainers when she entered. He looked up and grinned widely in the way that made her melt a little. It was worlds different from when she had rushed into a room filled with healers, her husband deathly still and pale on the bed. His lips were nearly blue. A healer had ushered her outside while she asked frantic questions. Sirius sat against the wall, holding gauze to his bleeding arm and almost as unresponsive as James.

What followed were five grueling days and nights of unchanging hospital routine. The Healers were slowly becoming less optimistic and Lily spoke very little to anyone besides her unconscious husband. James finally woke sometime on the sixth day. Lily was ashamed to say that she cried very messily when he whispered her name.

That seemed a million years past now as she looked at James, healthy and happy to see her.

"Now, now, Lily, what if I had been undressed?" he admonished with a sparkle in his hazel eyes. His hand reached up and ruffled his hair. It was so James, she had to stifle a laugh.

"Shut it, Potter," she said lightly. She crossed the room and kissed him. "Is Healer Bradbury coming with your release papers?"

"On the way," he replied. "Thank Merlin I'm out of here. They only let me up to piss!"

"I know. You've complained about that every day since you woke up," she reminded him.

"I'm bored," he groaned.

"You'd be bored at home too."

"No I wouldn't," he said stubbornly. "You'd be there-"

"I came here; Sirius visited after work."

"-And Harry. I miss Harry so much." He sighed wistfully. "And Moony's brooding werewolf ass."

"Not so brooding anymore," she said.

"So much has changed in my absence!" James cried out dramatically. But then he sobered and asked, "Really?"

"Really," she replied thoughtfully. "He seems...less burdened." In fact, both Remus and Sirius were different, as if something had been re-kindled inside. Sure, Remus spent hours cooped up alone in the office pouring over old tomes, scribbling in a small notebook, but he seemed...hopeful almost. Determined.

"Huh. Do you know why?"

"No. I think Sirius does. He's been joining Remus in the office as soon as he gets home. Voluntarily."

"Padfoot volunteer to spend time in the room of books? That does sound worrisome." James' tone was joking, but she could tell that he was curious. And maybe feeling a little left out.

"They'll include you as soon as your home," she comforted him. His lips twitched in a self-conscious smile.

"Crazy how you read my mind like that, Flower." She laughed softly and ran her fingers through his messy hair. A knock sounded on the door.

"Come in!" she called. Then she turned to her husband. "Let's get you home."

* * *

Christmas morning was a quiet affair (as quiet as it could be with Sirius Black and Harry Potter in the house). They partook in a small brunch as soon as everyone was awake. Then they moved on to exchanging gifts, either bought by owl order or requested through Dumbledore. Luckily, this year Sirius did not give Harry anything explosive or dangerous, something he had been threatening to do. Remus had apparently convinced him to go in with him on a plush quidditch ball set instead. The stuffed bludgers zoomed over their heads, occasionally dive-bombing the unsuspecting victim. Harry would giggle and clap his hands every time this happened, then would resume his determined toddling after the golden snitch with silvery cloth wings. James was almost more excited about Harry's gift than his own, until he saw what his friends had gotten for him and his wife.

Lily gasped when she opened it. It looked like a regular clock, but instead of three hands, it had five. Each had a delicate golden silhouette: a stag, a doe, a fawn, a wolf, and a dog. And in place of numbers were things like 'Home', 'Work', 'Traveling', and 'School.' 'Lost', 'Hospital', and 'Prison' were also options. There was even a position for 'Mortal Peril.'

"Got the idea from Arthur Weasley," Sirius explained. "He got one for Molly a few years back. Remus helped with the enchantments. And there's a watch version for you James. Click the button on the side and it will flip to the time-face."

Lily promptly kissed Sirius and Remus on the cheeks, then went and hung the clock in the kitchen. Her gifts to them were simple, her copy of _The Lord of the Rings_ for Remus (who seemed to draw a great deal of comfort from these books last month) and a muggle radio for Sirius ("But if I hear this playing louder than deemed safe for human ears, I will confiscate it Black, you hear me?").

Remus thanked her softly and she thanked him for helping her with the enchantments that kept the radio from going haywire around magic. Sirius was absolutely delighted and whirled her in the air in a huge bear hug.

James gave her a fake pout and asked, "Where's my gift?"

"Later, Potter," she said with a wink. His gift was waiting upstairs for when everyone was in bed.

"Oh…" he responded, looking boyishly excited. Sirius made a disgusted face and Remus just rolled his eyes.

They spent the rest of the day preparing a feast for dinner. Remus and Lily did most of the work, as Sirius was likely to poison all of their guests and James was desperate to spend time with Harry. They cooked and cleaned to Sirius' baritone singing along to tinny carols belched from the radio. Around three o'clock, Della the house-elf appeared with a crack, causing James and Sirius to rush into the kitchen, wands brandished. She apologized profusely in a squeaky voice.

"I is so so sorry, Masters Black and Potter. I is only wanting to help. The Headmaster gave me permission to come." Sirius and James bellowed with laughter and welcomed her. She turned to Remus, bulbous green eyes filling with tears. "It is so good to see Master Lupin in good health, it is!"

Remus blushed and replied, "I have you to thank for that, Della." Della promptly burst into tears and had to be taken into the living room to calm down before assisting with final preparations.

They expanded the table and added more chairs, even a small one for Della, who nearly broke down a second time. Sirius was a little heavy-handed with garlands and fairy lights, but the result was quite magical. He even charmed the ceiling to swirl with snow, which formed little figures of a stage, a wolf, and a dog that chased each other across the iron chandelier.

Around six o'clock, the guests started arriving. Both Lily and James no longer had parents to invite, so there were a conglomerate of friends and family of friends. All of them had been informed that Remus' mind was perfectly healthy, to the werewolf's relief.

First were Andromeda and Ted Tonks, the only family Sirius was willing to acknowledge. Andromeda brought a delicious-smelling treacle tart and gave Sirius a hug. She then introduced her husband and their nine-year-old daughter, Nymphadora. The girl tripped on the welcome mat and fell flat on her face. Her hair, which was an outrageous pattern of red and green stripes, turned an alarming shade of orange as she fell. She giggled at herself, then her eyes fell on baby Harry.

"Ooh, I can watch him while you adults talk. Please?"

Lily reluctantly relinquished Harry into the clumsy girl's arms, but she need not have worried. Nymphadora turned out to be excellent with little children. The Longbottoms came not long after. Alice was rosy-faced and threw her arms around Lily. It had been far too long since they had seen each other. Frank toted Neville into the living room where Nymphadora and Harry were playing.

Finally, Lyall Lupin arrived, dusted in the first snowflakes falling from the sky. Lily had never met Remus' father, but James and Sirius greeted the older man warmly and introduced them. He looked just like his son, except older and if possible, sadder. Only his eyes were different, a pale gray. Remus must have gotten the warm chocolate brown from his late mother. Lyall shook Lily's hand politely, but his eyes flitted over her head. His posture was one of a desperate man and Lily knew exactly who he was searching for. When the third Marauder appeared in the entrance to the kitchen, Lyall froze and Lily quietly slipped out of the way.

"Remus." His whisper was soft as he drank in the sight of his son.

"Hey dad," Remus said, equally softly. He stepped into the foyer and stared at his father uncertainly. "I'm sorry. I should have made an effort to see you sooner. Hell, I should have tried harder before all this. Mum wouldn't have wanted us to be so far apart all the time. I should have written or-"

"Stop," Lyall said. Remus' jaw snapped closed. Lyall closed the distance and wrapped his son in his arms. "You don't need to be sorry. I'm just relieved to see you alive." Slowly, Remus responded. Lily felt a stinging in her eyes and quickly left the foyer, telling James she needed to check on the turkey.

The dinner was magnificent, mostly thanks to Della's skills. As they gathered around the lengthened table, the babies noisy and the adults laughing at Nymphadora's ridiculous transformations, Lily felt like they had created a sanctuary. No one mentioned the war or even passed furtive glances at Remus, who almost glowed with contentment at finally being included in something. She was starting to understand why Dumbledore so easily agreed to them having guests for Christmas. They were far from who they were before Hogwarts and before Voldemort, but at least the ghosts were banished for now.

The conversation was kept far from darker things. Sirius and James entertained everyone with escapades from their time in school. Lily and Alice exchanged funny stories and incidents about Neville and Harry. Alice informed her that she missed being an auror, but would not trade motherhood for the world. She was currently working as an analyst for the department so that she could stay home with her son. They agreed that they would need to set up more play dates for the boys as they grew. Frank and Ted busily quizzed Nymphadora about what she was most excited for when she went to Hogwarts in a couple years. The fiery girl was getting steadily more annoyed with the nomer, "Nymfie," that Harry had adopted.

"I've got to come up with a new name," she grumbled. "No more of this ridiculous 'Nymphadora' nonsense."

"You could just go by 'Tonks,'" Sirius suggested. Andromeda slapped him on the arm.

"Don't encourage her, Sirius!"

But Nymphadora was tapping her chin thoughtfully, her elbow in the butter dish. Her mother shook her head in false despair, wild brown curls bouncing. By now their plates were emptied. Andromeda started cutting the treacle tart and Alice produced a pudding that she snuck into the refridgerator (something Lily had insisted on having in the house). Everyone had helpings of both and were patting their stomachs appreciatively.

Then Sirius disappeared into the cellar and brought up firewhiskey and honeyed mead. After Neville and Harry were put to bed in the nursery (a second cradle conjured for Neville), they opened these and decided to move to the more comfortable living room. Nymphadora was given hot chocolate, but she had tired of the adults and cheerfully stayed in the kitchen to help Della clean. Lily could hear her interrogating the house-elf about Hogwarts. Della, who had taken a shine to the eager young witch, squeakily answered every question in detail.

Lily and James squeezed together on the couch with Sirius and Andromeda. Though James denied it, he was fading fast and he rapidly fell asleep on her shoulder. His weight was comforting and she breathed in the smell of broomstick polish and woodsmoke. Remus chuckled and commented on how James could fall asleep anywhere, no matter how crowded the room. For some reason, the three bikini wearing girls on the motorcycle took this as a cue to start singing again. Sirius had apparently un-silenced them. Ted found them hilarious and moved them to the front of the tree, to Lily and Alice's consternation.

"I remember that thing!" Andromeda laughed. "Aunt Walburga nearly had a heart-attack when it appeared on her perfectly Slytherin-themed tree. It was the most eventful Black Christmas since Uncle Alphard brought that niffler, remember Sirius?"

"Oh yeah," he replied, grinning. "Narcissa's face was priceless. Mum yelled herself hoarse the next day after the guests were gone. I was grounded for the rest of break. Reg actually helped me sneak back to Hogwarts a few days later. Nicest thing he'd done in a while."

Andromeda looked at Sirius thoughtfully, then said quietly, "He visited me and Ted before he died."

"What?" Sirius was immediately on alert, studying his cousin's face. "You're just mentioning this now?"

"I sort of kicked him out," she admitted. "After he disappeared I...I felt bad about it. And then Orion died and you were so angry, you buried yourself in work...But I was going to tell you."

"Well tell me now," Sirius demanded. The room had gone quiet except for Remus and Lyall, who were in the corner having what looked to be a tense conversation of their own.

"Not now," Andromeda said, glancing at the people watching. "Later, I promise."

"Promise," Sirius repeated firmly. He gulped down some firewhiskey and leaned back, causing the couch cushions to sag behind them. Frank cut the tension easily by telling them about having his mother over that morning and the awful outfit she's given Neville for Christmas. The night was beginning to wind down. More of their friends were starting to look enviously at James, sound asleep against Lily.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself, Remus." The whispered entreaty reached Lily's ears from the corner.

"Dad, this is bigger than us."

"You're going to get yourself killed. I can't let you-"

"Let me?" Remus sounded angry. An angry Remus was rare. Lily winced, glad that everyone else was absorbed in their own conversations for the moment. But the werewolf sighed and rubbed his face. "You've done a lot for me. You and mum. I wouldn't even be alive to make this decision if it weren't for you, and I'm grateful. But this is a fight that I'm choosing."

"I don't want to lose you, Remus," Lyall argued. "Can't you understand that?"

"Of course, I-"

"You could've _died_ , but you've been given another chance, Remus. Don't throw it away! What would your mother think?"

"I think she'd be proud," Remus hissed. "Something you've seemed to have forgotten-"

But the room went suddenly still. A streak of bright light burst through the window and settled amidst the guests. It solidified into a wolverine. Disembodied screams echoed eerily through the living room.

" _Hogsmeade is under attack."_

The patronus dissipated, leaving the room dim in the lamplight, its occupants holding their breath.

"'Tis the season to be jolly, tra-la-la-la-"

"Let's go." It was James. Everyone was moving. Nymphadora had entered, her eyes wide and her mother drew her close. Sirius leapt to his feet and wands were drawn from sleeves, belts, and holsters. James immediately fell into his natural role as leader.

"Kids stay here. Lily and Remus can watch them with anyone else who wants to stay. Apparation point is just beyond the front gate-"

"I want to go," Remus said suddenly.

"No, Moony," Sirius growled before Lyall could protest. The tall animagus pulled Remus aside and talked to him in a low voice. Lily turned to her husband, heart in her throat.

"You can't go," she stated.

"What?" he asked, bemused, adjusting his glasses. She bristled

"I said, you can't go. You just got back from St. Mungo's, you're not at full strength. If either of us go, it should be me."

"You're out of practice, Lily." Being out of practice was deadly in a wizard fight. But logic seemed unimportant right now. She grabbed his arm as he tried to move past her.

"I had plenty of time to rest in the hospital. I'm fine, Lils," he said, face softening.

"No, you're exhausted. Please, James." She knew she was begging. He silenced her with a kiss. She tried to hold it, but he broke them apart. James eyes were apologetic as he backed away from her. Lily wanted to scream in frustration but she stamped it down. _Damn you, Potter_.

Remus had apparently relented because Sirius brushed past her without him, planting a kiss on her temple.

"See you later, Lils," he called, following his best friend outside. Snow whirled and blew onto the welcome mat, but she left the door open. Nymphadora had latched onto Remus and watched with them as the rest hurried out the front gate. There was a series of pops, then they were staring at the empty night. Lyall had stayed in the living room, gazing at the seashells on the Christmas tree. Upstairs, Lily heard one of the babies wake up and start crying. Feeling abandoned, she headed towards the stairs while Remus closed the door, sealing them into the cottage.

* * *

a/n: cliff-hanger! reviews are appreciated muchly.


	17. To Find Grace (James)

You guys are great. I hope you enjoy this one...it was somewhat difficult to write (you'll see why).

-Cat

* * *

Chapter 17

 _To Find Grace (James)_

 _I have to do this. They need me here_. These thoughts did little to help him forget the way Lily looked at him. He swallowed and pushed his emotions to the back of his mind, along with the aches and pains in his joints, the exhaustion. Hopefully adrenaline would numb these.

They arrived just outside of The Three Broomsticks with a pop. Immediately, James' more strategical processing took over and he scanned the area. The majority of the aurors were gathering villagers inside shops. Some of the teachers had arrived and were helping blockade the road to Hogwarts. James felt a thrill of fear as he thought of the students spending break in the castle. Was Voldemort targeting muggle-born children?

A few skirmishes flashed with bright bursts along the dark road. James spun looking for unengaged Death Eaters. The numbers of masked and hooded wizards were oddly sparse. He saw Ava Finch already locked in a duel near an alleyway. Frank and Alice had immediately engaged a pair trying to force their way into the Three Broomsticks. Madame Rosmerta burst out of the pub and stunned one, leaving the Longbottoms to easily dispatch the other. Aberforth was pelting down the road towards a group of outnumbered aurors, wand held high.

"Come on, Padfoot!" James shouted, spotting a pair of black-cloaked figures running up the road.

Sirius did not move. He was not even looking at him. Instead, he was staring up the road, jaw open and eyes panicked. James followed his gaze. More Death Eaters were swarming away from them, joined by the pair James was targeting.

Towards the Shrieking Shack.

"Oh bloody hell," James cursed. "Mad-Eye!"

The grizzled auror was fighting another masked figure. He threw up a shield, then blasted his opponent into an alleyway.

"Potter, what the hell are you doing here?!" Moody yelled. James winced. His superior sounded furious. But now was not the time.

"They're going to the Shrieking Shack!" He pointed at the retreating Death Eaters. Mad-Eye rolled his eyes.

"Cowards. Prefer violent spirits to aurors apparently. You better not let Hapley see you here-"

"No! There's a tunnel, Mad-Eye, it goes to the school. Pettigrew knew about it!"

"Damn it," Mad-Eye growled. " _Sonorus_. Aurors, protect the Shack!"

Moody's magnified voice rang out across Hogsmeade and witches and wizards started disapparating towards the abandoned building over the hill. Sirius and James made to follow but Mad-Eye stopped them.

"No, you two stay here. There are still Death Eaters in the town. Black, watch out for this imbecile. He's barely out of Mungo's he should not be in the field yet. I want him alive so I can kill him myself when this is over."

"Yes sir!" Sirius barked. With a crack, Moody was gone. Sirius smirked at James. "You heard the man. I'm your babysitter."

"I'll try not to wander off," James said with a wink. The Death Eaters in town were clustered in groups of two or three. Sirius and James fought well together and fell into a familiar routine of covering each other and playing offense. It was almost like a game. They ran through the darkened streets, stopping stray followers of the Dark Lord. The real battle flashed and crackled on the hill to the Shrieking Shack. There had to be more Death Eaters here tonight than there were in Diagon Alley. Something about this struck James as ominous, but he did not have time to think, only react. He could feel his wand arm getting tired much faster than usual, but the adrenaline was pumping through his veins.

There was an almighty crashing sound and a roar like thunder. James spun towards the Shack. His heart missed a beat. Four enormous figures were crashing towards it. They towered over the trees, huge clubs swinging over their heads. A few screams rent the air. Giants.

" _Merlin!_ " Sirius gasped. The giants cried out an indistinct battle cry. A rainbow of offensive spells pattered innocently on their thick skin.

"They need help," James said. Sirius nodded in agreement.

They rounded a corner of Zonko's and ran straight into a group of four Death Eaters. Two were missing their masks and James recognized Antonin Dolohov. The second was Fenrir Greyback. He leered, blood shining in his teeth, which were sharpened to points.

"Well, well, well, Potter and Black," said one of the masked men. The voice was vaguely familiar, but James could not place it.

"How's Lupin? I hear you keep him locked up and drooling in the basement," Dolohov mocked. Sirius gave a low, dog-like growl.

"Shame," Greyback said. His voice was hoarse and gritty. He reveled in the waxing gibbous, the monster inside already a shadow on his face. "He was so promising when he was with me. I could have turned him to my side."

"Stupefy!" Sirius shouted. Greyback snarled and stepped away from the bolt of red light. From the depths of his mangy coat he pulled out a stolen wand. James threw up a shield before the others could retaliate, then joined the fray. Dolohov fought like a bull, all strength but no agility. James stayed light on his feet, ignoring the weight of fatigue in his muscles.

"Tarantallegra!" Dolohov stumbled and fell, his legs jerking in every direction.

"Expelliarmus!" shouted one of the other Death Eaters. James' wand flew from his hand and clattered on the ground, several yards away. It was only with his many years training as a quidditch player that he was able to dodge back from the two green killing curses aimed at his head. He dove for his wand, gritting his teeth as his knees connected with the icy stones. Rolling onto his back, he shouted the first spell that came to mind.

"Reducto!"

Zonko's shop window exploded, filling the street with glass and the rancid smell of dungbombs. Trick fireworks cartwheeled into one of the Death Eaters, setting his robes on fire. He screamed and frantically showered himself with water.

"Haha!" Sirius shouted from where he was now dueling a recovered Dolohov and Greyback. "Nice one James!"

James scrambled to his feet and tackled the other masked figure, who was disorientated by the explosion. The mask rolled away, revealing Amycus Carrow's shocked face. James drew back and fist and punched him, hard. Amycus' eyes rolled back into his head.

"Ow!" James sucked his red knuckles. He paid for his moment of distraction and was blasted off Amycus' unconscious body. There was a feminine shriek of rage. The other Death Eater, now smoking was aiming his-no-her wand at him. Alecto Carrow, Amycus' sister.

"Stupefy!" he yelled. He hit her in the stomach, sending her flying into a snowdrift. He turned back to Sirius, who was concentrating hard as spells flew at him from both the deranged werewolf and the muscular Dolohov. Panting, James hurried to help. Dolohov saw him coming and shot a killing curse towards him. James sidestepped and re-engaged, leaving Greyback to Sirius.

"Incarcerous!" he shouted. Black ropes flew from his wand and wrapped themselves tightly around Dolohov. Dolohov overbalanced and toppled, fumbling his wand. Quickly, James kicked it out of reach and exhaled, resting his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

 _Snap!_

" _Argh!_ "

"Padfoot!"

James whirled. Sirius was lying in the rubble of Zonko's, wand rolling away and leg at an unnatural angle. Greyback towered over him, a predator and his injured prey.

"Stupefy!" James roared. The curse was so strong that the werewolf flew into the shop and crashed into multiple shelves. No sound came from the shop, only the smell of dungbombs and spilled love potions. James rushed to Sirius. His face was the color of oatmeal as he pushed himself up and clutched his leg.

"This is going to hurt," James warned him. "Ferula!"

Wrappings and a splint enclosed the limb and Sirius groaned. "Fuck."

"Yeah," James breathed. He sat back, his body reluctant to stand. From behind him he heard Dolohov scrabble against his bindings. Even more distant were the cracks and yells of aurors and Death Eaters by the Shrieking Shack. A giant roared and their was a thunderous crash. James glanced and saw that only three were now standing. But the village was oddly silent. Villagers were locked safely inside and stunned Death Eaters lay in the alleyways and streets. He checked the new watch strapped to his wrist. It was comforting to see the doe and the fawn pointing to home.

The wintry air stung James' lungs as he drew in long breaths, his arms and legs nearly trembling in gratitude and oxygen flowed. It was almost peaceful, their little respite in the battle. Above, the clouds were clearing and James tilted his head back to appreciate the stars. It struck him how untouched they were, up there in the sky.

"Really, Prongs? I'm lying here all broken and you're looking at the stars?" Sirius' teasing voice was tight with pain.

"They're lovely tonight, Pads." He returned to earth and silently stunned the still struggling Dolohov. "Can you stand?"

"Maybe." James grabbed Sirius wand, then his friend's arm and hauled him up. Sirius grunted and kept his weight off the leg. James pulled an arm over his shoulders and gently coaxed Sirius to lean against him.

"Let's get you inside."

They had only hobbled a couple steps when a Patronus landed in front of them. It did not come from the direction of the Shrieking Shack. To James' surprise, the glowing mist coagulated into a silver wolf. Remus rarely conjured a full-fledged Patronus, wary of the form it took.

" _Hogsmeade is a distraction. I think he's after Slughorn. Hurry!"_

Confusion filled James as the Patronus faded. Sirius stiffened next to him.

"James, take the Honeyduke's tunnel. I bet Pettigrew told them how to get in that way." His voice was worried, imperative.

"But-"

"I'll slow you down. I can make it inside by myself." James shook his head and stubbornly dragged Sirius to a door. It was Tomes and Scrolls, he realized.

"Alohomora." The door clicked open. The smell of paper and leather was refreshing after a street full of dungbombs. Sirius stumbled onto his hands and pulled himself inside.

"Prongs, you need to hurry," he urged as he leaned against a bookshelf.

"How would Moony know what he wants?" James asked, fighting exhaustion. Black spots danced in his eyes.

"Tell you later, there's no time. Trust me, James, if Remus says he's after Slughorn, then it's true." Sirius' blue eyes were wide in a plea to listen, a rare look for the animagus. James' sluggish mind wrestled with the information. There was no reason to doubt his friend, he did not even know why he was hesitating.

"Now, James," Sirius commanded. "I know you're tired, but you've got to go." Finally James' lethargic thoughts caught up. This was critical. A second wave of adrenaline sharpened his mind and refreshed his energy.

"Don't die while I'm gone," he ordered. He slammed the door, muttered, "Colloportus," and took off down the street. Honeydukes' door was swinging on its hinges, making an eerie creaking sound. James rushed inside and leapt over the counter to the cellar door. This was also open. Alarm flooded him as he took the stairs three at a time. The hatch was gaping like a mouth, revealing the dark passageway. James jumped inside. _Faster._ He landed on four cloven hooves and bounded down the dirt tunnel, ducking his head to keep his antlers from scraping the ceiling. Prongs flew along the passage, cutting the time it took in half.

Then he was James again, pushing aside the one-eyed witch and rushing towards the dungeons. Portraits shouted at him as he passed, but he ignored them. The castle opened up before him like when he was a student, beckoning him down shortcuts and secret staircases. _I can make it, I can make it, I can make it._

He burst from behind a tapestry into the dungeons. It was dark, wet cold seeping through the stones. Gasping painfully for air, he tried to listen, but his frantic heartbeat was loud in his ears. Sweat tickled the back of his neck. His fingers clenched his wand as he jogged towards Professor Slughorn's quarters. Trepidation clung to him. Here too, the door was ajar.

"Please…" The trembling entreaty sounded nothing like the potions professor.

"Avada Kedavra!"

A rushing sound and a sickening thud. The flare of green lit up the hallway. James felt the air in his lungs vanish. Too late. He was too late. His legs seemed to lose all power. Then two figures in black emerged from the room. One was tall, long blond hair glowing in the wandlight. The second was shorter, shaking.

"Wormtail."

James did not even realize he had spoken until Malfoy and Pettigrew turned. Malfoy's wand raised in shock, but James was faster.

"Stupefy!"

Malfoy dropped to the ground, leaving his companion standing, almost convulsing with dread. Pettigrew held his wand aloft and the wandlight shivered on the dripping stones.

"Expelliarmus!"

The lit wand rolled away, light dying, leaving them in only the lamplight spilling from Slughorn's quarters. Wormtail squeaked in fear and tripped on his robes. He fell backwards as James approached, watery blue eyes horrified. James stared back. He could not speak. If he opened his mouth he might scream. He might vomit. He might kill the man he used to call his friend. Emotions tore at his veins and organs, making his skin feel too tight.

"J-James-"

"I should obliterate you." His voice was amazingly steady. Deadly. Wormtail gasped as if he had been stabbed.

"Prongs…"

"DON'T YOU DARE!" The sudden storm of fury was blinding. Sparks flew from the tip of his wand and Wormtail flinched. _Traitor_. James took a deep breath and hissed, "Don't you _fucking_ dare call me by that name."

"I was afraid," Wormtail whispered.

"WE ARE ALL AFRAID!" James roared. He paced away, struggling to control himself. "My son! My SON, Pettigrew! You sold us to Voldemort. You _watched_ while he took Remus apart, while he destroyed him! You were our brother, _his_ brother, and you just watched!"

Peter looked stricken. "He would have killed me…"

James spun back to him, a thousand retorts flying to his lips. Wormtail scooted back with a yelp. Breathing loudly through his nose, James reined himself in again. "Then you should have let him," he said in a strangled voice. "Rather than betray us. We were friends."

Peter's fearful gaze turned ugly. "You never thought of me as your friend! I was _nothing_ to you. The Dark Lord values me-" Peter's voice was loud, insistent. Then he sneered, an awful parroting of Lucius Malfoy. "Your precious family should be dead and rotten, but instead he tortured Remus into insanity while you sniveled in hiding!"

" _Do not_ try and place the blame on me," James snarled and raised his wand. Peter froze.

"D-don't, please…" Whimpering, Peter's sudden burst of anger sputtered out and he cowered on the ground.

He could do it. The realization came to James easily. The angry animal in his chest roared encouragement. The dark spell rose in his throat but his jaw was clenched. Minutes passed. It felt like hours. Still, he did nothing. He hated his hesitation, his weakness.

"James." Slowly, James became aware of people behind him. He could sense Dumbledore's penetrating gaze, imagine the scrutinizing blue.

"Stay back," James snapped. There was no movement.

"I'm staying here, James," Dumbledore said calmly. "You need to decide."

Decide. " _We all have both light and dark inside. But I think… I think that what you choose matters. Doesn't it?"_ Sirius' words came floating to the front of his brain. He stared down at the defenseless Pettigrew. Tears were running down his pale cheeks. It would feel good, taking out all of his rage and pain. _I don't know, Padfoot!_ James mentally shouted. _Would killing a traitor damage the soul? Is that choosing darkness?_ The answer came immediately, but James could not move. He did not have the strength. Or the grace.

"James," Dumbledore said again.

James battled with himself. _He doesn't deserve mercy._ A lump welled in his throat. His wand wavered. _He doesn't deserve mercy_. His desire to kill the man on the floor was roiling. But then the man on the floor shrank to a boy, smiling gratefully when James told him the bullies were gone. The boy who was always there when he needed something. The other Peter. _Friend_. And James felt sick.

"You were not nothing to me," he choked out. His arm lowered. _Breathe_. "He already killed you, Peter." Pettigrew's face went slack. "I grieved for you. Whatever is left can rot in Azkaban."

James was spent. His wand clattered to the floor, exhaustion pulling him down to his knees. His vision was narrowing. Black ropes wrapped around Wormtail and two aurors stepped around James to pull the quivering wizard to his feet. A wizened hand fell on James' shoulder and he realized his cheeks were wet.

"Slughorn's dead," he whispered hoarsely. The hand tightened slightly. "I wasn't here on time. I was too late."

"It's okay, James."

"I left Sirius in Tomes and Scrolls. His leg is broken."

"The aurors found him. He's already with Madame Pomfrey."

"Lily liked Slughorn," James said. His hands and feet felt numb. "She gave him a fish when we graduated."

"It's okay, my boy. Let it go."

If this was grace, it was a knife in his chest.

"Peter's gone."

"Let it go, James."

Everything faded to black.

* * *

a/n: Whew. Shorter than usual, but I think this confrontation deserved its own chapter. Hopefully I did James' reaction justice. Until next time!


	18. In Days to Come (Remus)

So this chapter is long... but there is a ton of information to get across here, so it's necessary length. R&R :)

-Cat

* * *

Chapter 18

 _In Days to Come (Remus)_

Remus' head dropped into his hands. He had always prided himself in being patient. Tonight the waiting strained him. The recent memories of Slughorn were disjointed, but he was certain that Voldemort would want to tie up any possible loose ends.

His father was unmoving in an armchair, his gaze riveted on the seashells decorating the tree. Remus could almost hear the unspoken words fighting against Lyall's closed mouth. But his father dared not cut the tense concern that gnawed at Remus with the argument they had engaged in earlier that evening.

The Longbottoms and Tonkses returned. Remus and Lyall jumped to their feet, but there was no news except that Sirius had a badly broken leg. No one had seen James. Pale beneath her freckles, Lily guided them into the house where they set up cots, too exhausted to travel home and unwilling to wake the children. Remus badly wanted to throw something.

"Sirius will be fine," Lyall said in a soft voice. "And James is resourceful. He can take care of himself."

 _So can I,_ Remus wanted to snap. But he didn't. He had control. "I know," he said instead.

"Your mother would've loved your tree," Lyall murmured. He gently brushed a lavender shell with a finger. For a moment, the view of his father and the seashell were swallowed by Remus' still-fragile recollections…

 _...He was staring at a seashell in his palm. His mother's voice. "We'll leave a parting gift. To let the old us know that we'll always remember." Remus placed the seashell on the dusty ground. And very softly, he said, "Good-bye. I'll miss you."_

Remus shook himself out of the memory, but it continued to push at his consciousness. His dad was watching him, eyebrows drawn, his stare pained. Remus could think of nothing to say to explain his sudden lapse. To his relief, Lyall chose not to comment.

"I should go," he said. He stepped towards the fireplace. "I am proud of you, Remus. And I know your mum is. I just…"

"I don't want to argue about this again," Remus interrupted wearily. His dad's piercing gray eyes bored into him.

"Haven't you given enough of yourself to this fight?"

Remus did not have an answer. And he hated that his father had asked the question that plagued him every minute. Then Voldemort's memories rose in his mind. His determination re-ignited.

"Not yet," he answered. "Take care, dad."

"Good-bye, Remus," Lyall replied sadly, accepting the dismissal.

Remus was left alone. The fiery determination was hot and insistent, fuelling his worry for James. He could hear Lily in the kitchen. He was both tempted and afraid to check the new clock, wondering where the hands with the dog and the stag could be pointing. Della was still here, making tea every half hour. Every tiny sound grated uncomfortably on his sensitive ears. Standing still became unbearable, so he stood and started to pace.

"Damn the rules," he finally muttered to himself.

He reached the fireplace in two long strides and scooped up a handful of floo powder. With a wave of his wand, a note appeared for Lily. Hopefully she would not be too angry with him. He had a feeling that James was going to bear the brunt of her temper anyway. He tossed the powder in the flames, a strange elation inflating him. He was a natural rebel deep below the studious exterior. After all, he was a Marauder.

"Hogwarts," he said clearly and stepped into the fire. Grates spun dizzily by until he finally stumbled into a room of whirring contraptions. There was a tiny shriek of shock and he grinned wryly at Professor McGonagall. She was the only other occupant of the Headmaster's office besides Dumbledore and Fawkes, the phoenix.

"Good evening, Professor McGonagall," he said lightly. "Or perhaps good morning would be more appropriate at this hour."

"Remus," she breathed, clutching her chest. Remus' eyebrows drew together.

"Merlin's beard, Albus, you didn't tell her?" he asked incredulously.

Dumbledore cleared his throat with a smile. "I was actually going to do so, but it seems that fate had other plans."

"You...you…" For once, the stern transfiguration professor seemed lost for words. Then she rounded on the Headmaster. "You let me believe he would never recover! It's been over a month, Albus! How could you?"

"For his safety, we kept his mental state a secret. It's not that I don't trust you Minerva," he said reassuringly. He held up a hand, effectively silencing any retort. "But you are a teacher at this school and it was well known that you were particularly fond of the Marauders. You are under a lot of scrutiny. I hate to say it, but there are eyes inside these walls. Because your grief was genuine, the rumor was validated."

Professor McGonagall's nostrils flared but she did not argue. Instead, the woman turned back to Remus, her expression softened to dazed amazement. Then, without warning, she marched to where he stood and embraced him. Startled, Remus did not move. Slowly, awkwardly, he returned it. When she pulled away, she was dabbing at her eyes.

"I'm glad you're alright, Mr. Lupin," she said.

"Me as well, Professor."

"Minerva."

"Minerva," Remus repeated. He smiled softly, but then turned back to the Headmaster, serious once again. "Sirius and James?"

"Sirius is recovering under Madame Pomfrey's watchful eye. As I understand it, it was a rather nasty break of the tibia. And besides bruised knuckles, James is merely exhausted. As is common for aurors, he overdid it in the field far too early."

Remus let out a breath he did not realize he was holding. But there was something else. He studied Dumbledore and McGonagall. There was a quality of fragility about them that answered his second question.

"Professor Slughorn is dead," he stated, feeling strangely empty.

Dumbledore nodded. Remus was never close to the potions professor. In fact, their student-teacher relationship had always been strained. Slughorn had never quite gotten over his wariness of the werewolf. But he still felt regret. If only he had realized it sooner.

"James was there in time to disarm and capture both Lucius Malfoy and Peter Pettigrew." As he said this, Dumbledore examined Remus carefully.

"Peter was there?"

"Indeed. James took seeing Peter again rather hard."

"James is… he values loyalty to those he loves beyond life itself," Remus said slowly. "His world fell apart when Peter betrayed us." He was not sure what he was trying to explain to the two professors. They had seen how close the four of them grew during their time at Hogwarts. Maybe he just needed to put the hurt into words to people who would care. They were there at the beginning. "He… we've all been trying to handle it different ways. James' been trying to mentally put things back the way they were. He doesn't understand that it won't go back that way again."

"That is a very wise insight, my boy," Dumbledore murmured. A faint blush warmed Remus' cheeks. "Wisdom is often learned from bitter experience. I think that perhaps… James understands that now." Dumbledore paused and considered his hands before saying quietly, "Sirius said you warned them."

"Yes."

"May I ask how you knew?"

"I-" Remus faltered. Slughorn's death meant that Voldemort was becoming desperate. Not even the walls of the castle were protection enough. Fear suddenly reared its head, strong and overwhelming-

 _Voldemort was breathing hard, wand out and pointed directly at him. His gaze was murderous, lethal. He squeezed his eyes shut, accepting that this was the day he would die, and it would be brutal._

" _Crucio!"_

 _Pain, never-ending, searing through him again and again and again..._

 _Bellatrix was laughing..._

"Remus?" McGonagall murmured. The office was silent and both professors were watching him carefully. She had taken a tentative step closer to him. He shook himself.

"I'm okay," he reassured quietly. "That… happens sometimes." The explanation was weak, but it was all he could offer. He gathered himself again, clenching his trembling hand. _Control your thoughts, Remus_. Dumbledore waited serenely behind his desk. Remus was grateful that he was not frowning like McGonagall. Her concern was distracting.

"Okay," he started again. He struggled to find the right words. With Sirius and firewhiskey it had been easier. "I knew Slughorn was in danger because he used to be Riddle's teacher. And one day Riddle confided in him about something he wants to remain secret." _If only I could remember what they said_ … But the memory remained blurred. He could hear the voices and the phrases, but it was garbled.

"How-?" McGonagall began to say.

"He wants me dead because I know this," Remus continued over her. He could not stop now. "The only reason he's biding his time in finding and killing me is that he thinks I'm insane, that I don't remember. But I do, now. I did something, made his legilimency rebound on him. I saw his memories."

Dumbledore's silver eyebrows raised in rare shock. Remus noted distantly that McGonagall had covered her mouth with her hand. His eyes locked with Dumbledore's crystal blue and understood the question there.

"I haven't found anything yet," Remus replied as if Dumbledore had spoken out loud. "It's still...fragmented. The cruciatus did manage to disjoint the memories significantly." He felt clinical, dissociating himself from the torture. It kept the monsters at bay. "But if there is even a tiny hint I'll figure it out. And there must be, otherwise Riddle would not be so desperate."

"Indeed. Severus said as much. He was deeply confused and disturbed by Riddle's reaction that night and the days following." Dumbledore gazed piercingly at Remus. "Now we know why."

Remus nodded. He was close. The notebook that he kept in his pocket constantly was filling with ideas, clues, and snippets. And the occasional doodle by Harry done in crayon. Sirius added his own doodles as well, but since his maturity was barely higher than Harry's, this was not unexpected. It did not stop Remus from scolding Sirius for a particularly crude word regarding Voldemort. But Sirius did also add some helpful notes from what he was able to find, so Remus could not ban him from the notebook altogether.

Mentally, he ran through his list. _Pushed boundaries, the family murdered in the mansion, the ring with the triangular eye, a journal, the seal of Hogwarts… and Horace Slughorn_. He was close, but the pieces had no obvious connection to anything Remus had researched. Except the symbol drawn in _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ that had triggered his memory.

"Albus, when I was reading one of Beedle's stories to Harry I noticed something...a strange symbol. I've seen it before. Did you draw it?"

Dumbledore went alarmingly still. McGonagall noticed and eyed him curiously. Even Fawkes seemed to hold his breath. Then the old professor nodded stiffly. "Where have you seen it?

Aware that he had somehow stumbled on something sensitive to the Headmaster, Remus proceeded a little more cautiously. "In his head on a ring. Um...what does it mean?"

"It is the symbol of the Deathly Hallows," Dumbledore responded. He still had not relaxed. "You are familiar with 'The Tale of Three Brothers?'" At Remus' nod, he continued in a monotone, as if this were a class lecture that he was giving. "The Hallows consist of the unbeatable Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone, and the Cloak of Invisibility. There is legend that they actually exist and to unite them all makes one the Master of Death."

"Oh." Remus ran through the possibilities in his head quickly. Nothing he had seen in Voldemort's head seemed to connect to the Deathly Hallows except the ring. Except maybe that was the question he was asking Slughorn...but that didn't seem correct.

"I can make things easier on you, Remus," Dumbledore cut across his train of thought. "I have already researched the possibility that Riddle knew of the Hallows, but I do not think he did. I could be mistaken of course." His gaze said that he did not think he was.

"So they do exist?" Remus asked.

"Yes," Dumbledore said, inexplicably sad. "They do."

For a brief second, Remus entertained the possibility of a Resurrection Stone, seeing his mother one more time. But he thought of the story and knew that it was foolish. Then he thought about James' invisibility cloak. But it couldn't be.

"Suppose Riddle did try and unite them-" McGonagall started.

"He hasn't," said Dumbledore with certainty. The witch's lips thinned in such a familiar way that Remus almost snorted, seeing that expression aimed at the Headmaster instead of young troublemakers.

"What about your research of prophecies?" Dumbledore asked, straying away from the topic of the Deathly Hallows.

Remus cleared his throat. He honestly had not been dedicating a lot of time to it. But he still told Dumbledore what he had found. "Voldemort cannot change a prophecy. He tried on Halloween, but he did not expect for there to be...complications with his plan." Remus gave a wan smile. "If anything, he may have begun the course of the prophecy. 'And he shall mark him as his equal.' I don't know if hunting Harry down counts as marking a baby as Riddle's equal, but it seems that Neville Longbottom may be out of danger for now. But as for the rest of it…" Remus sighed. "I don't you about you Albus, but I would dearly love for this war to be finished before Harry is old enough to defeat him. I would love for Harry not to be involved at all."

"Don't we all?" McGonagall asked quietly. Worry for Harry was suddenly overwhelming. _We need to end this_. Dumbledore rose from his chair and stroked Fawkes thoughtfully.

"Prophecies are difficult to interpret," Remus said, watching the Headmaster and the phoenix. "I suppose we can only hope that this one is not entirely as it seems."

A chime sounded deep in the office. Three o'clock. A few of the instruments puffed and whirred in response. Remus glanced out of the dark window where the grounds were illuminated by gray light. Weariness settled over him like a heavy blanket. The moon was tugging at his bones and he shifted. He would regret staying up all night during tomorrow's transformation.

McGonagall must have been thinking the same thing, because she was gazing at Remus critically. "You need to sleep, Remus," she advised softly.

"Minerva is right," the Headmaster said, still stroking the phoenix. "Go home. James and Sirius will be safe here tonight. Lily is probably waiting for news."

"I would like to sneak down and see them, all the same," Remus said stubbornly.

Dumbledore looked hesitant, but resigned. "Fine. The other aurors have left, so you will not be seen. But then you have to rest, Remus. You are pushing yourself too hard."

Remus nodded and steeled himself for one more question. "Albus. It's been almost seven weeks. I know the protection is for my own good, but-"

"But you would like to start attending order meetings again?" Dumbledore finished, eyes twinkling. McGonagall made a movement of protest, but Remus kept his gaze on the Headmaster. Dumbledore turned to the bird. "What do you think Fawkes?"

Fawkes sang a long, beautiful note. Dumbledore smiled. "The next meeting is four days time. It will actually be held here at Hogwarts, in the Room of Requirement. Will you be recovered from the moon by then?"

Remus nodded.

"Then I'll expect you there. Tell Lily that she is welcome as well, and Harry may come. No doubt she is feeling a little cabin fever herself."

"Thank you," Remus said, relief firing through him. He turned towards the door of the office.

"Go home and rest as soon as you've seen they're alright, Remus," McGonagall ordered.

* * *

Remus spent the December full moon in the Shrieking Shack. Begrudgingly, he allowed Sirius to accompany him, despite his newly healed leg. Madame Pomfrey would be incensed if she knew what her patient was doing a mere twelve hours after being released from her care. But Remus was not looking forward to a night alone with the wolf, so he made Sirius swear not to play roughly. Lily flat out promised to chain James to the bed if he tried to go, and the animagus was too exhausted to protest too much. However, when they were all together for dinner the following evening, James was wide awake enough to glower at them from where he sat next to his wife.

"I can't believe you left me here," he groused, stabbing his leftover turkey with a fork.

"Prongs, you are still recovering-"

"Padfoot's still recovering!"

"-From injuries for more serious than Padfoot's," Remus finished. He immediately regretted his choice of words because Sirius jerked at his elbow, gulped down his partially chewed food in a hurry, and said, "He couldn't possibly have injuries more _Sirius_ than-"

"And besides," Remus continued loudly. "The wolf last night seemed content to rest like in November. You would have just slept through the whole thing."

"Would not," James mumbled. Lily gave Remus an exasperated eye roll.

"Yes you would have," she scolded. "Besides, if you had gone, I would have withheld your Christmas present indefinitely." Some stinging anger still lingered in her voice, but Remus could tell that James' recklessness had already been forgiven. Yesterday, she had yelled at him in the hospital wing in a shrill voice the entire castle probably heard. She was more subdued today and Remus could guess it was because Slughorn's death was sinking in.

"Mum, cookie," Harry demanded from his high chair.

"Finish your dinner, Harry," she responded quietly, guiding his hand to a pile of peas. Remus glanced at James, simultaneously wishing to remain oblivious to details of his confrontation with Peter and curious about what was said. Forks clinked against plates and the candles flickered. Inhaling, Remus decided to ask.

"What happened between you and Peter on Christmas?"

"How did you know about Slughorn?"

James' mouth hung open in momentary surprise as he and Remus spoke at the exact moment.

"You first," he ordered.

"Fine. I suppose I owe you that," Remus conceded. As he explained his recent revelation about Voldemort's memories, James and Lily listened with growing astonishment. Remus was grateful that neither asked any questions. To be honest, he was not sure he'd be able to answer them. Even though the Deathly Hallows symbol in _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ had helped him connect a few things, it was still fuzzy. He finished his tale by placing the little notebook in the middle of the table. James silently took it and placed it between him and his wife. They flipped deliberately through the pages, Lily pausing only once to glare at Sirius and say, "Really, Black?" Sirius only shrugged.

"So we're trying to use his memories against him?" James clarified. Both Sirius and Remus nodded.

Lily bit her lip, looking anxiously at Remus. "But… but what if his memories are just… random? You can't be sure that there's some clue…"

"I thought of that," Remus replied instantly, and somewhat annoyed. He and Lily were both the logical ones, the ones that thought through every outcome. Her question reminded him of how emotionally he was approaching this. "I just… if there's a chance that something good can come of this, I need to take it. Besides, Dumbledore agrees. Voldemort would not be so set on killing me if they weren't significant."

"True," James said. He adjusted his glasses and a small smirk dimpled his cheeks. In school this meant that James Potter had spotted a way to cause mischief. Now the expression had a new weight. "Count me in on the research, gents. We've got a dark lord to psychoanalyze."

Lily laughed softly. She shot Remus a glance. _Be careful,_ it said. Remus stared back. _When am I not?_ She raised a single red eyebrow, but did not reply.

Sirius rose from the table and reached up into one of the cupboards. Withdrawing a bottle of firewhiskey and four glasses, he plunked back down, poured a generous helping in each glass, and said solemnly, "Okay, James. Tell us about Wormtail."

Remus felt the mood of the kitchen immediately darken. James frowned at the amber liquid and tilted the glass in circles with a hand. Studying the rim of sugar that collected on the sides of the glass, he said, "There's not much to tell. After Moony's warning, I ran to the castle dungeons. I was too late to save Slughorn" (he glanced at Lily) "But, I cornered Wormtail outside his office."

"And?" Sirius prompted.

"Malfoy was easy to stun. I surprised them, I think. I disarmed Pete-Pettigrew." Grimacing, he swallowed some of the alcohol. "We had a chat. Then Dumbledore came."

"Prongs," Sirius sighed.

"I know," James grunted. His breath whistled noisily from his nose. One of his hands jumped up to ruffle his hair nervously. "I was… angrier than I've ever been. I thought that… I thought I might kill him." He whispered the last part in horror.

"I would have," Sirius spat bitterly. "He doesn't deserve mercy."

"That crossed my mind while I was standing there, holding my wand to his chest," James said quietly. "But he was disarmed… How can we decide who deserves mercy? I mean...where is the line drawn?" James had stood now. Remus was not sure he realized it. He paced towards the window and Remus could see his agitated expression in the dark pane.

"I almost did it," he whispered. "The spell was in my mouth. And then I thought about him when we were young and…I let the aurors take him."

"Just like that?"

"He can rot in Azkaban," James said coldly. But then his shoulders slumped and he returned to the table. "I've killed before, Sirius, just once. It was in self-defense, but you remember how torn up I was. This was not self-defense. It was anger." James swallowed. "I chose, Sirius. You were right about the light and dark in our souls."

In his chair, Harry chattered an imitation of human speech and reached for his dad. James snorted softly and lifted him out, peas spilling from his bib. Lily leaned against his shoulder and gazed down at Harry with eyes like a shadowed forest. Remus saw something soften in James.

"I made the right choice." James said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I think… Killing does something to your soul. More than darkens it. I think something breaks inside. Maybe not irreparably, but nearly. I could not face my family with a broken soul."

As he spoke, James' eyes locked intentionally with Sirius and Remus. His meaning about who he considered family was clear. No one spoke. Remus' felt his chest expand, a feeling of belonging washing over him.

" _...A broken soul."_

The reaction happened deep inside of the recesses of his naturally analytical brain. It was small, at first, like a thread of spider silk pulling at his consciousness. " _...A broken soul."_ The kitchen faded away…

" _I can make them hurt if I want to" Seven stones stood out on a windowsill behind the pale boy… "I have pushed the boundaries of magic…" ...The handsome young man was last to die, dropping to the floor, eyes dead and terrified. A ring flashed on the killer's finger… The same ring on a hand, a voice asking…_

Remus' eyes slipped closed. Lily's voice was calling him, but she sounded like she was underwater. _There was a book..._ he thought, straining, following the threads... ' _Murder rips the soul into two pieces. The wizard conceals one in the object of his choosing. As long as the object survives, the soul is bound to earth, immortal at a great cost…'_

" _I was wondering sir, what you could tell me about horcruxes?"_

Sound flooded back, a cacophony of intermingled voices compared to the soft inquiry echoing in his memory. His eyes snapped open to Sirius' blue beneath knit black brows. Remus started and fell backwards from the bench, but two strong hands grasped his shoulders. James.

"Remus?"

"Bloody hell," Remus breathed.

* * *

The Room of Requirement had outdone itself. Remus marveled at the circular table surrounded by the perfect number of comfy purple chairs. A fire roared in the huge hearth and in one corner of the room, a playpen was set up with magical toys and a soft carpet. With Harry squirming excitedly in his arms, Remus went here first. Settling inside on the soft carpet and introducing Harry to the new toys was soothing for his nerves. The last time he walked into an order meeting confidently, not hiding from stares or avoiding the company altogether, was almost seven months ago. The last time he was even in a public space was almost the same amount of time. He felt bizarrely exposed and the hair on the back of his neck prickled as order members started arriving.

Sirius and James set themselves like trollish sentries, heading off stares and whispers with mulish glares as people realized that the supposedly insane werewolf was in the room. The only person who did not stare was Minerva McGonagall. A woman approached the playpen with a small red-headed boy, an infant girl strapped to her chest. Molly Weasley, Fabian and Gideon's sister. She had never met Remus.

"This must be little Harry Potter," she said with a smile. She settled her red-haired son on the ground. He immediately toddled to the closest toy and settled down, eyeing Harry suspiciously.

"Yes. And this is?"

"Ron. It's our first time at an order meeting." She scanned the people settling around the table nervously and Remus notice her relax when she found her husband.

"You are definitely not a Potter," she said, gaze returning to him, or more accurately, his graying fawn-colored hair.

"Ah, no," Remus said awkwardly. Now came the hard part. He looked down to where Harry was leaning shyly against his legs, breathed deeply, then met her gaze squarely. "Remus Lupin."

"Oh." To her credit, the only sign of surprise was a blink. She did not move.

"Go on Harry," Remus said softly, urging Harry towards Ron, who had apparently decided that Harry was not going to steal his toy. Ron said stoically, "I Won Weasley." Harry plunked down on his bum next to the flaming-haired boy. With a pudgy hand, he picked up and different toy and offered it to Ron.

"Hawwy," Harry said. Molly smiled faintly.

"I, uh, better find a seat," Remus excused himself. Without waiting for a response, he hurried over to Sirius and James. Halfway there, he noticed that Sirius jerk a shoulder in irritation. Severus Snape had just entered, slipping along the wall, dark hair hanging across his face like a curtain. Remus paused abruptly. He knew the role the Snape played in his rescue, but had not seen him since. He changed direction, inwardly rallying his courage.

"Severus," he said quietly when he reached the man. The black irises shone in brief astonishment, but then his face faded to the familiar sneer.

"What do you want Lupin?" he snapped. It was defensive, a parroting of his younger-self's reaction to the Gryffindor.

"I just want to say thank you," Remus said. He hoped it sounded sincere. It was. "You risked a great deal for me."

Snape relaxed infinitesimally. Then, he accepted with a slight nod of acknowledgement.

"Why?" Remus asked on impulse. Snape raised a sardonic eyebrow. But after a moment, it lowered and he sighed.

"It was in my best interest to keep order secrets safe. And…" Snape hesitated, but continued in a rush. "And it was not pleasant to watch what he was doing."

"Oh." Remus studied Snape. His concern was… unexpected. Snape seemed to be regretting being so candid.

"You are a poorly-trained occlumens, Lupin."

"Yes," Remus agreed. _If only I could have blocked him…_

"You could be good," Snape said suddenly. Remus was not sure what to say. Behind them, the door to the Room of Requirement opened and shut again. Dumbledore had arrived. "You'd better find a seat," the Death Eater spy suggested softly and walked away.

Remus watched Snape go, noticing how everyone seemed to avoid being near him. So Remus was not the only one getting unwelcome stares. Feeling a strange empathy with Snape, he went to find a seat. He settled between Sirius and Lily, heart pounding as the Headmaster swept to the other side of the table. _After the meeting,_ he told himself firmly, trying to settle his desperation to speak the Headmaster right away. _Tell him about the horcruxes after the meeting._ Everyone quieted as Dumbledore took his seat and looked expectantly at him as he started the meeting with some small announcements. Remus was strangely reminded of the knights of the round table, with Dumbledore as Merlin. _Who would be King Arthur?_ He wondered vaguely.

"...And as most of you have probably observed, I would like to welcome Remus Lupin back into our circle." Remus felt his cheeks flare as Sirius clapped him on the back and Dumbledore smiled warmly in his direction. "I'm afraid rumors of his sanity were greatly exaggerated for his safety. His mind is his own. However, Remus remains a primary target for Voldemort, so I must impress the importance of secrecy upon each and every one of you. I trust you will take this responsibility seriously."

To Remus' embarrassment, James, Sirius, and Frank Longbottom led the members in a round of applause. Unsure of what to do, he attempted what he hoped was a gracious nod and stared at table. Then the usual reports began.

Edgar Bones reported that an unspeakable by the name of Eldridge had been admitted to St. Mungo's with a mysterious magical malady. Dumbledore asked Moody if Rookwood was involved and Moody promised that they would find out, gesturing to himself, James, and Sirius. Bones also mentioned another patient at St. Mungo's, a muggle named Frank Bryce who was subjected to a unrecognized dark curse. It was apparently causing the muggle's organs to decay at a rapid rate. He was not expected to survive. Professor McGonagall and Ava Finch (a new member), took turns giving the rest an overview of what was becoming known as the Battle of Hogsmeade. A few people were interested to know why there was a tunnel from the Shrieking Shack to the Hogwart's grounds, but McGonagall simply said with a straight face, "An eccentricity of the Founders, no doubt." Sirius snorted and McGonagall gave him a small wink.

 _Seal of Hogwarts...research the founders,_ Remus noted silently to himself. The tunnel also made him wonder what kind of secrets they needed to share with Dumbledore. The Marauders had discovered more about the Hogwarts grounds than perhaps any other student. If Wormtail was sharing these with the dark lord, what else did Voldemort know? With a shiver, Remus recalled a memory forced from his mind of Padfoot, Prongs, and Wormtail. An uncomfortable certainty filled him. Voldemort knew about Padfoot and Prongs. He would need to speak to James and Sirius about this later.

Mad-Eye concluded the reports with an account of the new methods of the Magical Law Enforcement goons lead by Barty Crouch. They were getting nasty, casting curses first and asking questions later. He advised everyone to be careful if confronted by the MLE.

Finally, the meeting was over. The three Marauders and Lily mingled with members as they trickled away. Remus was getting more impatient as people lingered and conversed. Sirius and James were worse, tapping their feet and holding themselves stiffly. Hagrid was the last to leave, clapping Remus so hard on the back, that the werewolf nearly fell over. But the giant righted him with a bashful apology and then was on his way. Finally it was just them and the Hogwarts Headmaster.

"What can I do for you four?" Dumbledore turned to them, half moon glasses glinting.

"We need to talk to you alone," Remus replied steadily. "It's about what we discussed in your office the night Hogsmeade was attacked."

* * *

a/n: the plot thickens...


	19. Interlude III: Of Death (Peter)

Back to Peter. Thank you to all who reviewed! I can't believe how far this story has already come!

-Cat

* * *

Chapter 19

 _Interlude III: Of Death (Peter)_

The cell was cramped and damp, folding in on Peter like the clammy hands of a dementor. He had considered himself lucky to have a tiny slit as a window when he first arrived. Now he was certain that the window was just another method of torture. The wind whipped around the tower of Azkaban, spraying the interior with rain and salt water. But even more excruciating, the wind spoke. The opening in the wall was like a mouth, whispering and howling and screeching. The voice of the wind blended with the voices in his head. Peter huddled against the wet stones for hours, hands clamped over his ears, mouth wide in horror.

" _I grieved for you,"_ James chanted over and over again, joined by the screams of Remus and the laughter of Sirius. " _I grieved for you, I grieved for you, I grieved for you."_

When the dementors were elsewhere, the wind took up the chant of the ghosts. Peter was convinced now.

"I'm dead," he whispered to himself. "I'm dead. I'm dead."

"Get up, Wormtail." Macnair's harsh voice mocked him with his old nickname. Peter blinked. His cell door was open. Dementors were eerily still behind the Death Eater, cloaks fluttering in stagnant prison air. He was rescued. The wind shrieked.

"Shut up," Peter sobbed.

"Stop whining." Macnair grabbed an arm and pulled him to his feet. "The Dark Lord requires your services. Time to leave this pathetic excuse for a prison."

"S-sorry…"

The lower levels of Azkaban were a termite's nest of empty cells, riddled with rogue dementors. The prison could barely hold anything inside anymore. It leaked prisoners like a sieve. They stepped out onto slippery rocks where two guards and an auror lay dead. Peter shuddered. More Death Eaters gathered, triumphantly crowding into boats. Laughing at the Ministry's failure. Peter couldn't laugh. The wind still ridiculed and jabbered across the waves. Peter wondered once more if it would be quieter under the water.

Halfway across, they disapparated. Peter lost his chance to find out.

They reappeared in a cold graveyard on a hillside. Compared to the stormy waters, the stillness was unnerving. And the whispers continued, now from the dead bones deep beneath the earth. " _I grieved for you."_ Peter stumbled after Macnair. Ahead of them was a house, indistinct in the darkness. The lit windows gave an idea of the size. It must have belonged to a wealthy family.

Inside, it was desolate. White sheets covered most of the furniture and cobwebs clung to ornate chandeliers. The portraits on the walls were so thick with dust that Peter had the impression that he was viewing the subject through a heavy fog. They climbed a wide, creaking stairway to the second floor and went into the first room. Peter wanted to whimper, but he clamped his mouth shut.

The Dark Lord sat in a high backed chair before the fireplace. He regarded Peter coldly with red eyes. The fire crackled, but did nothing to heat the room. A young man with straw-colored hair in the corner watched Voldemort hungrily, an expression of near-worship in his eyes. Malfoy was here as well, pale and dirty from Azkaban. Rabastan Lestrange stared at nothing from the middle of the room. Rookwood was silhouetted by the fire, speaking steadily in a low voice.

"-you will not be able to get the prophecy using someone else. Eldridge will probably not recover. As for the Veil, it seems to separate the world of the living from the world of the dead. If my Lord would require me, I could-"

"Do not speak of the Veil anymore, Rookwood," Voldemort ordered in a high voice, a lip curled in disdain. "I have no use for the dead. It seems the prophecy will need to wait. What of the locked room?"

"I would not advise trying that door, my lord," Rookwood cautioned. He said no more. Voldemort's eyes narrowed and there was a tremor in the room. But he moved to Rabastan Lestrange.

"What of the Minister?"

"Successfully placed under the Imperius curse. She fights it, but she is growing weaker. I remain within a close vicinity and undetected as Atkins."

"See to it that it does not break." Peter sensed the threat in the order. Rabastan nodded and backed away.

"And your father Crouch?" the Dark Lord addressed the young man. Crouch smirked.

"You will have no trouble from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"Good. We can act soon..." Peter quailed as the crimson gaze returned to him. "Wormtail. Are you grateful for your release?"

"Y-yes, my Lord, thank you. Thank you," Peter gasped. Voldemort sneered.

"I have a new job for you. Dumbledore is becoming a nuisance. His interference is fraying my patience. You must become my spy in Hogwarts. Your animagus form will be most useful."

"I-Yes, my Lord."

"I have a particular interest in the location of the Potters and their werewolf." Peter flinched. "Do not disappoint me, Wormtail," Voldemort hissed.

"N-no, my Lord." Peter averted his gaze, terrified that the dark wizard could see his fear of his ex-friends.

"James Potter was weak for sparing your life," Voldemort spat in disgust. "Take this wand. Leave." Peter scurried out of the room, clutching the unknown wand that Voldemort had tossed at his feet. The owner was probably dead. It was unfamiliar and clumsy in his shaking hands, but he managed to apparate into the woods outside the Shrieking Shack. He was alone, snow soaking through his holey socks. His mind whirled. Azkaban, his master, Dumbledore, fear, fear, fear.

He began to weep messily. " _I grieved for you."_ James was a fool. His mercy was nothing compared to the power of the Dark Lord. Snot dripped from his nose and he pressed himself against a rough tree trunk. _Why am I not dead?_

"Why didn't you kill me?" Peter demanded out loud. His voice fell on the apathetic ears of the trees. The wind replied, " _I grieved for you."_

"I _know_!" Peter shouted. "Stop saying that! Stop _lying_! Why do you still care?!" He hiccuped, his breath coming in short gasps. "You were never my friend, you always thought you were better than me! I'm dead to you!"

" _You were our brother."_

"I DON'T CARE! I HATE YOU!"

The forest was still. Peter was standing now, ears ringing. His throat was raw. His head spun from hyperventilating and he collapsed back to the ground.

"Why do you still fucking care?" he whispered. He sat in snow long enough for his arms and legs to go numb. Then he took the wand and shrunk in on himself, further and further, until only a rat with patchy fur remained. The rat shivered in the snow for several minutes, before scuttling away in the direction of Hogsmeade.

* * *

a/n: Nope I have not forgotten the secret Death Eater plans set in place...several chapters ago. If you can't tell already, I like to build up to things long before they happen...up next, Sirius pov :)


	20. The Unseen Warrior (Sirius)

Hello everyone! This is a pretty big chapter, I hope you enjoy :)

-Cat

* * *

Chapter 20

 _The Unseen Warrior (Sirius)_

"Padfoot, stop drooling on my notes," Remus instructed mildly. Sirius gave him a canine grin and continued to pant happily, pink tongue lolling out. Remus was sitting cross-legged in the middle of Lily's office, papers radiating in every direction. Sirius examined the wide circle of papers with a tilt of his head. As long as he had known Remus, he had preferred to do things in a confined, organized way. He always had his notes in perfect order, neat stacks of flashcards for revision, and books tabulated for certain topics. This new, disorganized method of research was… either refreshing or disconcerting. Sirius could not decide which. He barked at Remus, who self-consciously scratched his eyebrow.

"I'm looking at the big picture for a change. I just… need to see everything there."

Sirius sneezed and trotted around the edges of the circle to settle down near the bookcase. It was the first Sunday of 1982 and first day he had taken completely off work since rescuing Remus in November. Excluding holidays, of course. He had spent the morning outside in the frosty air, running and romping through the countryside. It felt good to stretch his legs. When he returned, he was reluctant to return to his human form. Things were simpler in his dog-mind. Dogs did not worry about things like life and death and the constant, unyielding guilt he felt. Dogs only focused on the present.

"If you're going to be in here, you could help," Remus pointed out. Sirius tilted his head to the side in what he hoped was innocent confusion. Remus rolled his eyes and silently returned to his work. In front of him was a sheet of parchment labeled 'Horcruxes.' Below the title were several scribbled words in Remus' neat handwriting: 'ring,' 'Hogwarts founders,' and 'journal.' The idea of splitting one's soul still made Sirius' spine tingle. He was not surprised that Voldemort had no misgivings about the cost. While speaking with Dumbledore, they'd agreed that if Voldemort made one, he probably made several others. They had yet to figure out how many, but Remus was working tirelessly to figure it out.

Sirius could smell the exhaustion coming off Remus, which renewed his worry about his friend. He was glad that Remus had found a purpose, but he had not fully healed yet. Sirius could see it in the bags under his eyes. Or in the occasional tremor in his fingers that Remus had tried and failed to hide. There were days that he was gentle, dry-humored, and joyful, like the old Remus. And there were also bad days, which were much more frequent. Days like today, where he obsessed and brooded and stared at nothing. The quality of his silences were darker. Sirius slowly transitioned from dog to man.

"Have you been sleeping?" he asked quietly.

"Do I look asleep to you?" Remus asked with half-hearted sarcasm. He glanced at Sirius' stony expression and sighed. "I get enough."

"You don't look like you do."

"Well neither do you," Remus retorted. Sirius supposed that was fair.

"Why don't you take a day? We could go out in the yard? Teach Harry how to throw snowballs at the windows," Sirius suggested.

"Lily would love that. Especially after the bath Prongs is giving him as we speak."

"You need a break, Moony."

"I had a pretty long one, Padfoot."

"That doesn't count."

"Does too."

Annoyed, Sirius leaned back against the bookcase and kicked out his feet. The way they disturbed Remus' notes was immensely satisfying.

"Padfoot…" Remus warned. Sirius ignored him. He had just noticed a small slip of paper with a familiar prophecy scrawled in Dumbledore's loopy handwriting. He plucked it from the carpet and read it through, frowning.

"You don't think that Harry really could defeat Voldemort, do you?" he mused.

Remus turned towards him and spied the copy of the prophecy in his hand. His eyebrows drew together in worry. "I don't know. I'm hoping that all isn't as it seems."

"Same."

"Voldemort will be dead before Harry even learns his name."

Silence followed Remus' quiet pronouncement. It was the first time Sirius had ever heard anyone mention Voldemort's death. Sure, they had discussed the horcruxes and how destroying them would make Voldemort mortal, but after that, no mention of actually killing him. Defeat was the word that was usually used. Dead was different, permanent. And it implied someone had to cast the spell. It was a very odd thought.

"So this is not just about the war. Or… or finding some way to move on from what happened," Sirius murmured cautiously. Remus watched him through gray bangs. "It's about protecting Harry."

Slowly, Remus nodded. He turned back to his notes, studying another scribbled page of memories as he spoke. "James and I talked last night. He had similar concerns." Remus gestured vaguely to his nest of papers. "I think it's about time we called this what it is."

Sirius considered this. Understanding was dawning, and with it, a rush of buoyant air somewhere in his midsection. Also, a rare thrill of fear. "You're telling me that we're going to kill him."

Remus' amber eyes looked up from the page, solemn and calm. "Yes."

Sirius exhaled slowly. Instead of this being a revelation, he felt that he had always known. It was even obvious. Maybe they had started down this road when Voldemort took Remus. Or when Trelawney spouted a prophecy threatening their family. Hell, perhaps this had been decided when they were sorted into the same house ten years ago. Acknowledging it felt somehow liberating.

"Which leads me to my next point," Remus said. He was still observing Sirius, gauging his reaction to the last statement.

"Another point?" Sirius asked weakly.

"I'm out of practice."

"What do you-"

"The last time I dueled was Halloween."

"Voldemort."

"Yes. And I lost."

"You put up a good fight," Sirius said, thinking of the destruction in the Potter's Godric Hollow residence when he arrived. _Too late. If only you'd gotten there sooner_...

"I'd rather not repeat it, all the same," Remus said with a faint crease in his brow. Sirius narrowed his eyes. Was that… shame? Remus had always been hard on himself, but he was an excellent duelist, no one could deny.

"Moony that-that wasn't-" Sirius huffed and restarted. "Nothing that happened that night was your fault."

"Right," Remus said. It was hard to tell if he was agreeing, so Sirius tried again.

"None of us would have been able to escape him, Remus. Lily, James, Harry-they would all be dead now if it weren't for you."

"I know," he sighed. His shoulders sagged and he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I held him long enough; it was all I could do. I honestly did not expect to make it out alive that night. Or...later." He glanced at Sirius. "He knows about Padfoot and Prongs, by the way."

"I figured Wormtail would tell him eventually," Sirius reasoned.

"And he saw it in my head," Remus added. Sirius started to tell him he should not feel guilty about that, but Remus talked over him "This is up to you and James, but I think we need to tell Dumbledore. It's only a matter of time before Voldemort uses Wormtail's animagus form against us."

"I'll talk to James," Sirius promised. He was not sure how he felt about revealing the Marauder's best kept secret, but Remus had a point. And if the dark side already knew, it would only be a disadvantage to the light to hide it. Voldemort kept gaining ground, despite their efforts. Another Azkaban breakout had been reported in the news the previous day. Pettigrew was one of the inmates that escaped. James was especially upset by the news, though he did not show it.

"He saw more than just your animagus forms. There were other things," Remus murmured quietly. Sirius returned to the present conversation.

"It's okay, Moony."

"But what if it isn't?" A scarred hand ran through his hair. The tremor was back in his fingers. "We're using his memories against him; he'll do the same. I managed to keep him away from order secrets, but… He knows things about all of you, things I let him-"

"Things he took," Sirius barked. "He took them. You didn't give them. It's different."

"Yeah."

His disbelieving tone made Sirius feel helpless. He could not think of anything else to say. Wounds like the ones Remus had…they did not heal easily. Logic could not alleviate whatever burden he was still carrying. Sirius knew this from his own experience. _I did this_ , the voice in his head whispered _._ He wished James were here instead of elbow deep in bubbly water and toddler. James always knew what to say. _I could tell him that things will get better, but would I be lying?_

"All of us could use more practice dueling," Sirius said instead, feeling like a coward for avoiding the deeper problem. "We'll make a new routine of it."

"You and Prongs are aurors, Pads."

"Still. Little time throwing spells in the backyard won't hurt. And Lily should join. I'd like to have her next to me if it should ever come to that."

Remus nodded in agreement.

Sirius checked his watch. It was almost noon. Getting to his feet, he surveyed the books and notes carpeting the floor, the werewolf in the middle. Whole and not whole all at once.

"I'm going to Andy's," he announced, wishing he could stay. Remus nodded again. Sirius steeled himself. "This will pass, Moony. Like you said. We're going to end it."

"Thanks," Remus whispered. He stared back down at his notes. Absently he held up his other hand, the one that wasn't trembling. Blue flames flickered across his fingers. The trembling slowed to stillness.

* * *

The Tonkses lived in a secluded cottage surrounded by forest. It was very serene in the pale January sunlight. Sirius walked up the cobbled path. Andromeda opened the door before he could knock. Her wild brown hair was tamed back into a scrunchy and she was wearing a bright yellow sweater. The difference between her and Bellatrix was like night and day.

"Hi Andy."

"Sirius. Kettle's on," she said in welcome as he stepped through the pruned brown thorns that made up the garden. He looked at them questioningly. "Roses," she explained with a smile. "A hobby of Ted's. They're quite depressing in the winter, though."

The house was warm and inviting. Andromeda had blossomed once she was out from the dark cloud of the Black family. Sirius supposed he had too, but in a different way. They went into the kitchen, where Andromeda poured two mugs of tea and set them on a worn and scratched table. Out the back window, Sirius could see Nymphadora's bright pink hair spiraling in the cold. He looked closer. She was swirling around on a frozen pond. Her boots had blades on the bottom that carved patterns into the ice. Ted was chasing after her, wearing blade-boots of his own. In true form, the girl fell backwards, arms wind-milling, and slid into a snowbank.

"It's called ice-skating," Andromeda said. "Muggle activity. Ted used to do it with his parents. She loves it, despite her lack of grace."

"Weird," Sirius muttered. "Just the sort of mad thing muggles would come up with." Andromeda laughed. But he was intrigued. Maybe he would try it one day. He added ice-skating to his mental list of things to do after everything. _After._ It was a good word, Sirius decided.

"How's work?" Andromeda asked.

"Hectic," Sirius answered honestly. "I haven't had a slow day in weeks. The paperwork is starting to drown my office. I'll need to ask for a new one soon."

"Ted says the Ministry is struggling," she said seriously.

"Yeah, you could say that." In Sirius' opinion, the Ministry was one mistake away from completely crumbling to pieces. They could find no evidence against Rookwood, but another Unspeakable had gone to St. Mungo's under mysterious circumstances. Bagnold had gone from aggressive measures against Voldemort to fearful passiveness. Several members of her office were murdered a day after the post-Christmas order meeting. And Magical Law Enforcement arrested more innocent people than guilty, forcing them to go through pointless hearings. The full Wizengamot was called together nearly five times a week.

"So, I was going to speak to you about Regulus."

Sirius unconsciously straightened. So much had gone wrong between him and his little brother that he felt like they were about to discuss a stranger. The old remorse and anger still burned in his heart, like an everlasting coal.

"He came to visit you?" he prompted.

"Yes. It was in March, three years ago. I think...I think I might have been the last one to see him alive." She looked guilty. Regulus had disappeared almost immediately afterwards.

"You might be right," Sirius murmured. "How did he seem?"

"He knew," she said immediately. "You could see it, like he was preparing to relinquish his ghost. But he was...steady. I did not notice until after I'd demanded he leave. He was unmoved by whatever was happening with him."

"Why?" Sirius wondered aloud.

"I couldn't tell you," she sighed. A crease appeared between her eyebrows. "He had Kreacher with him."

"What?"

"Your old house elf. It was strange."

Something stirred in Sirius' memory. The battle in Diagon Alley, when he fought Bellatrix.

"Bellatrix said he was running from Voldemort. That he'd left his ranks."

"It did seem like he was in hiding," Andromeda said thoughtfully. "He was not eating well."

"What did he want?"

"I think he really wanted to see you," she responded, her gaze piercing. "But was too afraid, so settled for me instead. But he left something for you. That's the real reason I asked you to come here. Besides wanting to see you of course."

She smiled softly, setting her teacup down. Then she went to the cutlery drawer and pulled it open. Sirius watched in fascination as she lifted out the tray of forks and spoons and knives. With a small nudge, the bottom panel popped open, revealing a folded piece of paper. Wordlessly, she handed it to Sirius.

Sirius' hand shook slightly as he took it. The fold was complex and familiar. Sirius used to tease Regulus for his paper creations when they were little. He was secretly proud of them. It was the one thing that Reg did in his life that their parents had not approved. Gently, he pulled at the edges and flattened the square piece of parchment. It was written in a neater version of Sirius' careless cursive. Swallowing, Sirius read.

 _Dear Sirius,_

 _If this note gets to you, I'm sorry. Mother and Father would not want me contacting you, but I felt it needed to be done. He's after me, Sirius. I'll be dead long before you read this letter and I'm sorry I never got the chance to apologize in person. You were right about him, brother. He goes too far to preserve blood-purity and must be stopped. I have discovered his weakness and I hope in time you will too._

 _I cannot say too much here, in case it gets in the wrong hands. The Dark Lord will find me before I finish the job, but I will get as far as I can. When the time is right, go back home, Sirius. If my plan succeeds, the first piece will be there. Destroy it._

 _I've done a lot of things that I'm not proud of. I was never a rebel like you, I was too afraid, too convinced of our parents' beliefs. But perhaps this will make up for some of it. Goodbye Sirius._

 _Your brother,_

 _Reg_

A hard stone had lodged itself in Sirius' throat. Tight bands were wrapped around his chest and squeezing his lungs. He stared at his brother's signature until it started to blur. The stinging in his eyes shocked him back into reality. He could not cry here.

"Thank you, Andy," he said hoarsely. She nodded and did not ask what it said. He sniffed and scanned the letter again. _Pull yourself together, Padfoot_.

So Regulus discovered Voldemort's secret. And if Voldemort had not found him right away, the first horcrux was in their parents' house. Sirius did not doubt what Regulus meant by ' _go back home._ ' The words fermented in his gut, becoming excitement. They had a starting point.

"I should have given it to you sooner," Andromeda said. "But I was pretty angry with him and at that point, Ted and I were trying to stay as far away from the war as possible. I was afraid for my husband and daughter."

"It's fine… I have it now," Sirius replied. "I would not have understood it until recently anyway."

The door opened and there was a rush of freezing cold, followed by Nymphadora's high giggles and Ted's deep laugh. They welcomed Sirius warmly, faces flushed with cold. Andromeda invited Sirius to stay for lunch, but he politely declined. The letter was tugging at him. He needed to take action soon, before he exploded. As he left, he kissed his favorite cousin on the cheek.

"Bye, Andy. And again, you have know idea what this means," he said fervently.

"Well, maybe one day I will," she said. There was a wistful gleam in her eyes and Sirius knew she was thinking of her sisters. Bellatrix would never be one to show affection, but Narcissa...maybe. She squeezed his arm gently. "Take care of yourself Sirius."

"I try." He plastered a mischievous grin on his face that made her roll her eyes. Then she closed the door, saying, "Okay, Dora, let's take a look at those bruises."

"Mum! I told you, it's Tonks now!"

Sirius barked a short laugh and turned back down the sidewalk. Andromeda's sisters may never reconcile with her, but she was lucky. She'd made quite a beautiful life for herself. Sirius wondered if he would ever achieve something like that. Settling down had never been very appealing before, but now… it seemed peaceful. Sirius tentatively added it to the list.

* * *

The main problem would be his mother, Sirius decided. Walburga Black and her son had not communicated since her short note delivered by owl two and a half years ago telling him his father died. Which he ignored. As far as he knew, she did not even leave the house. He could imagine her wasting away in the gloomy place, only Kreacher to listen to her raving pure-blood mania. The idea of seeing her again was repulsive. Besides, the old hag would definitely scream him out of the house the moment he showed up on the doorstep.

"What do you propose, then?" James asked when Sirius voiced this. They were speaking in hushed voices outside Lily's office. Remus had finally drifted off in the armchair, an enormous, age-stained book open in his lap.

"I don't know," Sirius mused. "We could go in the middle of the night? She'll be asleep. Kreacher is pretty much nocturnal, though, so we'd still have to deal with him. And whatever ward's the deranged witch has put on the house."

"How will we know what the horcrux is?"

"It could be anything. The whole damn place is filled with dark objects that would appeal to Voldemort."

"It would have to be something that was not there when you still lived with them," James pointed out.

"True. We could try snooping through Reg's room."

"Or," James cut in. "We could just ask Kreacher."

"Not even if hell itself were icing over."

In the dim light of the hallway, Sirius could see the exasperation on James' face. "Andy said that he was with Regulus when he visited. He probably knows, Sirius."

"He'll tell mother. And she'll tell Bella and then Voldemort will know what we're up to," Sirius retorted.

"We could convince him to keep it a secret," James replied, but he sounded less certain.

"Look, I don't want to talk to Kreacher unless it becomes absolutely necessary," Sirius said through clenched teeth. "And if we do, we'll modify his memory. No one can know we were there."

"Okay fine. What should we do about…" James trailed away, but motioned with his head to the office. The door was slightly ajar. Through the crack, Sirius could see Remus, head tilted to one side and ashy-brown hair covering his face. Sirius chewed his lower lip.

"He'll want to come."

"But should he?" James' worry was shared by Sirius. A hundred scenarios chased themselves around his head. No one outside the order could know that the werewolf was healthy enough to remember his torture. Not yet.

"I'm coming."

Sirius started. Remus was now framed in the doorway, very much awake. His eyes were fierce and determined. James opened his mouth to argue, but Remus turned his glare on him. James' mouth quickly snapped shut.

"I'm not an invalid and I'm tired of being stuck here. I need to do something besides research. I'm coming. We're doing this together"

"We don't think that you're an invalid, Moony," James placated. "We're just worried...if Voldemort finds out…"

"We'll have to make sure he doesn't find out then."

It was half-past midnight by the time they finalized their plan. As it turned out, it was good that Remus was helping. He was always the best at defensive spells and working out every possible case. The planning reminded Sirius somewhat of planning a prank. They needed to have entry and escape routes, several methods to avoid being caught, and predict what could go wrong. Except this time they were breaking into his childhood home.

They apparated to the park outside Grimmauld Place. It was cold and frozen slush made the ground slick beneath their feet. Through the branches above, Sirius could only see a few stars, the lights of London overtaking the rest. The street lamps were pale, illuminating their breath as they faced the Black residence. Sirius looked pointedly at Remus, who rolled his eyes and donned the invisibility cloak, a condition of his coming.

The three friends exited the park and walked away from the house to the end of the block. A firescape ran up the side of the city houses, which they easily accessed, using magic to draw the ladder down. They clambered onto the rooftops, Sirius in the lead, balancing on the apex. Once they were on the roof of Grimmauld Place, they crouched, city lights spread out like a bright plain before them. Sirius thought absurdly of the stone gargoyles on Hogwarts.

"You're sure we can go in this way?" Remus' disembodied voice asked.

"Yeah. Mother and father never guessed how I was getting in and out of the house in the summers. They wouldn't have warded it." Sirius sounded more confident than he felt. Their entry would only work based on that assumption.

Shaking away his doubts, he carefully slid down the roof tiles until he reached one that was chipped, three tiles from the gutter. He gingerly stuck a finger inside and hooked it around a latch. With a gentle pull, a square trapdoor, big enough to fit one person, lifted open. Sirius stuck his head down into the yawning opening. It was pitch black inside, so he lowered his wand in and muttered, "Lumos." A tiny space, filled with storage boxes and dusty clothes, came into view. Sirius swept his wand across the room. "Specialis revelio." Nothing happened.

With a shrug directed at James, he lowered himself into the opening, careful to make as little sound as possible when his feet landed on the floor. The door to the closet was closed, so he pressed his ear against it and, hearing nothing, opened it slowly. His old bedroom was almost unchanged. He smirked when he saw that his permanent sticking charms had worked. It was incredibly dusty and covered in cobwebs. His mother had probably given up and simply locked it away from the rest of the house.

"All clear," he whispered. James and Remus followed, only rustling the clothes slightly with their entrance.

"Damn, Padfoot," James chuckled quietly, scanning the photos on the obnoxiously red wall. "Your mother must've gone spare when she saw this."

Sirius grinned. The red color had been done when he was twelve. The photos were a slow collection over the years, steadily angering Walburga Black more and more. None of the Marauders had ever entered his room. He was banned from having his Gryffindor friends over to the house as soon as he returned home after first year. Remus removed the cloak from his head and quietly studied the photo in the middle of the wall.

"We were so…" He couldn't finish. Sirius went to stand next to him. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs laughed at the camera, innocent and happy. Sirius stared at Wormtail, the familiar anger rising. He pointed his wand at his face. Picture-Wormtail cringed.

"Don't," James said quickly. He put a hand on Sirius' arm. "Leave him be. That was before… everything. He was still good then. Besides we need to leave no trace."

Reluctantly, Sirius let his arm fall. He went to the door and tried the handle. It was locked. "Alohomora." The latch clicked and the door opened into the dark hallway of the top floor. Sirius went first again, instructing the others to place their feet where he placed his. He skirted the spots that creaked and groaned, making his way to the flight of stairs, down to Regulus' room. His senses were on high-alert, listening for Kreacher's familiar muttering. So far there was nothing.

They went into Regulus' room, bypassing the sign that said, 'Do not enter without express permission from Regulus Arcturus Black.' With a look at James and where he imagined Remus was standing, they began their search. Remus had told them that the horcrux could be a journal, a ring, or anything related to Hogwarts. Sirius thought that any student would have tons of Hogwarts-related items, but Remus pointed out that it would have to be special, one-of-a-kind. They had to be thorough, but efficient, so they had already agreed how to divide and conquer. Sirius went straight to the bureau and began casting revealing charms and carefully going through drawers. He felt a strange grief weighing down his chest as he went through clothing and sentimental objects. Technically, he had already mourned his brother. But emotions were unpredictable. Now he was mourning the Regulus he never knew.

Nearly an hour passed and they still had nothing. James was getting frustrated. Remus had removed the cloak and was looking more and more nervous. Sirius glanced at his watch. The longer they lingered the higher their chances of being discovered. They had one close call when Walburga stirred downstairs. The three trespassers had frozen and listened to slow steps trace to the washroom, the flushing of a toilet, then the steps returning to bed. They dared not move for almost ten minutes, waiting for sleep to overcome the woman.

"This isn't working," James hissed. "Are you sure we can't just summon the bloody thing?"

"No summoning," Remus insisted. "That will definitely make a noise. Anyway, I doubt Voldemort would have allowed his horcruxes to be found by a simple summoning charm. There's probably some kind of warding on each of them." Remus picked up the silvery folds of the invisibility cloak. "Where else could we look, Padfoot?"

"I guess downstairs," Sirius said in trepidation. They were getting closer to Kreacher's territory. "If mother found it but didn't know what it was… It could be in one of the cases in the sitting room. Or the library. If she didn't… Kreacher could have it." Sirius sincerely hoped that this was not the case.

The library and the sitting room were both on the second level, a floor below Walburga Black's bedroom. They descended cautiously past the rows of severed house-elf heads. James raised his eyebrows at Sirius. Sirius was glad that they could not speak with Walburga sleeping just a few rooms away. The sitting room was their first target.

It had barely changed since Sirius ran away. Various trinkets and ancient objects filled the shelves. Old books of maps and records of nearly forgotten Black family secrets were collected behind enchanted glass. The grand piano had collected dust without anyone to play it. He ran his fingers over the ivory keys, itching to press one down.

"Sirius," whispered Remus' voice.

"I'm not gonna-"

"No, look."

Since Remus was invisible, he could not point, but Sirius understood when he looked at the shelves. One of the glass cases was ajar. In the dust on the walnut surface of the second shelf, there was an oval of clean space. James studied the shape, eyebrows drawn together.

"What do you think-"

Sirius held a finger to his lips, listening. The sound was coming from below, a guttural muttering, punctuated by clanking. The voice was getting louder. Its volume was frustrated and aggrieved.

"Kreacher is failing, always failing. Poor master Regulus, Kreacher cannot do it! _He cannot do it_!"

More clanking. Kreacher's croaks of dismay lowered in volume. The elf must have remembered his sleeping mistress. Sirius stared at James with wide eyes.

"Regulus," he repeated.

"We can obliviate him," James reminded him. Sirius chewed his lip, considering. Then he nodded. He went first, leading the way to the kitchens, where Kreacher's monologue was continuing over the clanking noises. There was a glow of lamplight shining from the open door. Sirius put a hand on James shoulder, signalling that he should stay back. Then he stepped lightly into the kitchen.

Kreacher was standing with his back to Sirius, muttering, "Kreacher is failing his master, failing, failing." He was repeatedly bringing a huge butcher knife down on an object in front of him, then hitting himself on the head with the handle. Memories of his life at home rose to the surface and Sirius swallowed down twenty-one years of solid resentment.

"Hello, Kreacher," he said. Kreacher spun, holding the knife in front of him. Sirius put his hands up.

"Master Sirius," he wheezed. "What is young master doing back in his home? Broke his mother's heart, he did. Should go tell the mistress, yes, must tell her right away-"

"No, you may not tell my mother," Sirius commanded. He was not sure if Kreacher would listen to him, and Kreacher seemed to be debating the same question.

"Will Kreacher listen to young master? The mistress blasted him off the family tree-"

"And I'm glad of it," Sirius snapped. It was the wrong thing to say. Kreacher glared at him and tried to dart past him. Sirius grabbed the back of his dirty loincloth, and hurled him back to the floor, barely avoiding getting cut by the knife. He wiped his hand on his pants.

"Oh, the mistress will hear of this, yes," Kreacher cackled. A grin spread over his face and Sirius realized the elf was planning on disapparating to Walburga's room.

"Regulus sent me!" he said quickly. Kreacher froze.

"Master Regulus is dead," he enunciated slowly. His ugly ears started to shake. "M-master Regulus is dead and Kreacher cannot fulfil his last wish!"

"Shh! Kreacher, you'll wake-"

"Kreacher has failed!" Kreacher wailed, dropping the knife to the floor and hitting his face with his fists.

"What did you fail to do?" Sirius demanded. He was growing more frustrated.

"Master Regulus ordered Kreacher not to tell," he hissed, pausing his self-injury. But the elf's rheumy eyes darted to the object next to him. Sirius studied it. It looked like a locket. It was elegant, a silver oval glittering with tiny emerald chips. Sirius drew closer. The emeralds formed a snake in the shape of the letter 'S.' There was a ghost of wind by his cheek and then an invisible hand squeezed his arm.

"Kreacher," Sirius said carefully. "Did Regulus order you to destroy this?"

Kreacher's jaw opened, revealing rotting gums. Then, hesitantly, he nodded. Excitement filled Sirius, overcoming his revulsion of the house elf.

"Master Regulus told Kreacher the locket must be destroyed. He does not tell Kreacher why. He tells Kreacher to switch the lockets. Then he was dr-dragged under the water a-and-" Kreacher broke off with a loud sob.

"What?" Sirius asked sharply. He grasped Kreacher's arm and shook him. "What happened to him?"

Kreacher jumped backwards, rubbing the place where Sirius touched him. "Dead hands. Dead hands dragged master under. Kreacher must destroy master's locket."

"That doesn't make any sense Kreacher," Sirius grit out. His heart was pounding, desperate for information. No one knew what happened to Regulus except the elf.

"There was a cave," Kreacher muttered. "Hidden, secret, dark. And evil water filled with dead things. Master took Kreacher there, to the island of poison. Master Regulus orders that Kreacher destroy the locket and Kreacher has failed…"

Sirius sighed. There was no way he would get the full story from the house elf. He looked towards the horcrux, trying to decide how to take it without Kreacher causing a ruckus. A nudge from Remus told him that they needed to hurry. He eyed the elf.

"Kreacher…" he started uncertainly. "Um… Regulus wrote me a letter. He wanted me to help you. Here look." He removed the carefully folded parchment from his pocket. Kreacher could not read, but the elf would probably recognize the complicated folds. He was right. Kreacher took one look at the letter and let out a hiccuping sob. Sirius put it back before Kreacher could touch it. "If… if you let me take the locket, I promise that I will do everything in my power to destroy it."

"M-master Sirius will destroy the locket?" Kreacher was wavering. His gaze darted to the pocket concealing the letter. He wrung his hands in indecision. There was a creaking upstairs.

"I solemnly swear on my brother's life," Sirius added desperately. "As soon as I can, it will be destroyed."

"He swears on Master Regulus," Kreacher said softly. Then, to Sirius' utter amazement, Kreacher stood, picked up the locket, and gave it to Sirius with a spasmodic bow. The locket was cold and heavy in his hand. Sirius held his breath, wondering if the piece of Voldemort inside could sense him. But nothing happened.

"Thank you, Kreacher," he breathed.

"It is an honor to Master Regulus. Kreacher has followed master's orders." Kreacher seemed awed. Sirius had never thought that Kreacher had a full range of emotions, but he saw a weight lift from the elf. Tears leaked from his eyes. But they had no more time. There were footsteps on the stairs.

"Kreacher, you will not tell mother about this," he ordered in a hushed voice. "Regulus would not want her to know. Don't tell her I was here."

"Master Regulus ordered Kreacher to tell no one," Kreacher said, as if this was obvious. Sirius stood, wondering if he should say anything else. This was the first conversation he'd ever had with Kreacher that did not end in insults. It felt strange, leaving him standing there in the kitchen, large tears spilling across his face.

"Um. Good-bye, Kreacher."

"Master Sirius must hurry. He must destroy the locket."

"Yes," Sirius said. With a small wave, he rushed up the stairs, grabbed James' arm, and dragged him to the foyer.

"That's it?" James hissed. Sirius realized he was still clutching the locket in one hand.

"Yeah," Sirius answered, listening hard for the footsteps. A disgruntled woman's caw descended the stairs.

"Is that you, Kreacher?"

"Yes, mistress, Kreacher is here," croaked the house-elf's voice.

"Come on," Sirius whispered, pushing James towards the door, hoping that Remus was right behind them.

"Out the front door?" James said in alarm, clearly thinking of all the wards Sirius and Remus had listed.

"They're to keep people out, not in," Sirius responded, praying he was right.

"Alohomora!"

The lock clicked and the door opened. They stumbled onto the front steps. Something solid and invisible touched Sirius' arm, assuring him that Remus had followed. James closed the door as quietly as he could, then the three of them bolted across the street and into the gloomy darkness under the trees of the park.

Breathing hard, Sirius grinned. "We did it," he said.

"You and Regulus did!" James laughed.

A warm ache filled Sirius chest. The cloak spilled from Remus' face. He was smiling too, small, but genuine. Sirius held up the horcrux so that it glinted in the street-light filtering through the trees. A combination of victory and dread settled over them. This was only the first of many.

"Maybe all of them will be this easy," Sirius joked half-heartedly. He glanced at Remus, whose eyes were still fixed on the locket. His features were tight as he observed it, any hint of triumph abruptly swallowed by the dark look in his eyes. It suddenly occurred to Sirius that this was a piece of the Demon that tormented his friend daily. With rising abhorrence, Sirius wanted nothing more than to crush it under his foot until it was dust. Then obliterate the dust.

James met Sirius' eyes and Sirius immediately knew he was thinking the same thing. "How _do_ we destroy it?" James murmured quietly. Remus did not answer.

* * *

a/n: So one horcrux found. Took some creative license (hey, it's fanfiction after all) with Regulus leaving a letter. I really wanted Sirius to know that his brother died fighting Voldemort.

Also, another note on the horcruxes. I'm going to follow canon as closely as possible, but I'm also going to make the hunt for them very different, because no one wants to read the same thing twice.

Anyway, reviews are either helpful or motivating. Either way I appreciate them :) Until next time!

-Cat


	21. The Things We Hide (Lily)

Hi it's me again :). Lily's pov for this chapter. For some reason she's the hardest character for me to write, but I enjoy the challenge. Happy reading!

-Cat

* * *

Chapter 21

 _The Things We Hide (Lily)_

"You're serious? Me?"

"Who else?" Dumbledore gave Lily a small smile, blue eyes twinkling. He looked very out of place in the cottage kitchen. He was seated at the table in the light of the square windows, a cup of tea clasped in his veined hands. The light caught the steam, following the spiral in front of his face. He only took up a chair, but the venerable man seemed to occupy the entire room all at once with his presence.

"There has to be someone-I'm so busy already-what about Harry?"

"Of course, your first priority must always be your family," Dumbledore replied. "You would live at home and commute back and forth via the floo network."

"I can watch Harry during the day." Lily had almost forgotten that Remus was there, leaning against the door frame. The soft-grained wood blended neatly with his threadbare jumper. He had come down the stairs quietly after putting Harry down for a nap and had been listening silently up until now.

"But you're already working hard on the horcrux research, Remus, I couldn't ask you to-"

"And if I do happen to be busy," Remus continued over her, his lips twitching. "I'm sure something can be arranged. He'd love it there."

"He'd get into trouble there," Lily corrected. But a small part of her was beginning to cave. She could almost see it. Lesson plans formed in her head, ingredient lists and supplies needed to be bought. Explaining the tiny subtleties, giving advice, guiding problem-solving…

"But… what about Severus? It was always him, he is so gifted and-"

"So are you. And Severus did express interest in the job, but fears that with the current political climate he would not be widely… accepted. We are in need of a Potions Master. You would just be a temporary replacement, until the end of the term. You could make a decision then about the next school year. If you decide you would not like to continue, I will revisit the idea with Severus. Perhaps then…" Dumbledore did not continue. Lily wondered what his unsaid words were. _Perhaps then he will be free to choose. Perhaps then this will all be over._ But the realist inside of her battled with the optimist. _Perhaps then we will have failed. Perhaps then none of this will matter._

"Lily?"

Lily blinked. Only one term. He was not asking much. She bit her lip. "But I've never taught before. I don't know how."

"There will be a definite learning curve," Dumbledore said with some amusement. "Students can be… trying. Judgmental and overly critical of themselves and you. But they are also kind and unique and endlessly surprising. If you care enough to work through the hardships, the moments of triumph far outweigh the difficulties."

Lily stared at the Headmaster, chewing her lower lip. This was a man who loved his work, who felt fulfilled by it. She had almost forgotten this side of the wizard amidst the war that never seemed to end. Dumbledore was always their powerful leader, their pillar of wisdom. It was strange to remember that despite the magnitude of his capacity and influence, all he wanted at the end of the day was to return to his students. For the first time, she wondered what profound magic drew him to teaching.

 _Professor Potter._ James would love the idea. She glanced at Remus, who was watching her with an odd expression. After a moment, she identified it as longing. Remus would always be the professor at heart. With a small pang of sadness, she realized that this offer truly belonged to him. Not the position of Potions Master (Remus and potions were never a good combination), but Defense Against the Dark Arts. If the curse on the position prevailed, Dumbledore would need to hire another one next term. _If only the world would let him have this one thing. One good thing._

"I'll do it," she said finally. "Just for the term, mind you. And I'll need some time to pull some things together."

"Of course. I can have the other professors cover your classes for now. Would next Monday be a good time for you to start?"

"Monday sounds good," Lily replied, with a sudden rush of nerves. She did a quick calculation. Today was Tuesday. Six days from now. _Oh god, what have I agreed to?_

"Excellent. Perhaps this Friday afternoon Professor McGonagall can give you the full faculty tour and description of duties. I'll let her know so that the two of you can set up a time. She will be a good mentor for you as well. Once your office has been set up, we'll connect the fireplace to the floor network."

"My office?"

"Horace's old quarters. I hope that is alright with you?"

"Yes, that's fine," Lily replied distantly. A small ache rose in her heart, but she knew it would be the best place. "Can I come sometime this week to go through it? I'll need to see what ingredients he had stored and perhaps scavenge old lesson plans…"

"That will not be a problem," Dumbledore said. He stood easily and rearranged his long eggshell blue robes. He gave her a gentle smile. "It is my pleasure to welcome you as a member of our staff, Professor Potter."

"Thank you, Albus," Lily said bashfully. The tall wizard made to leave, but there was a movement in her peripheral vision as Remus stepped away from the frame. In the light he looked more tired than usual, which was saying a lot.

"Wait, Albus. There's something I wanted to ask you about."

"What was that, Remus?"

Remus shot Lily a look that she immediately recognized as guilt. She narrowed her eyes. He slid a scarred hand into his pocket and drew something out. The hand trembled, but then steadied as he opened it. A oval locket sat in his palm. Without knowing why, Lily was overcome with a sense of apprehension. And a sudden need to check on Harry.

Dumbledore moved slowly, the locket that Remus held fixing his eyes in place. His warm presence turned grim. There was a long moment when Dumbledore simply studied it devoid of expression. Then, in a low voice, he asked, "When?"

"Last night."

Lily let out an involuntary, "What?" Remus looked extremely apologetic and opened his mouth to explain, but Dumbledore cut him off.

"You want to know how to destroy it," he said quietly. Remus nodded. All at once, Lily understood exactly what was in her kitchen. It seemed to make the light dim, like a cloud had covered the sun. A piece of Voldemort's soul was sitting innocuously in Remus' hand. She could not fathom how he stood so still.

"The only ways I could find so far were involved some very precarious magic. Morally gray magic, at that. Or items and substances nearly impossible to acquire. I didn't think we would find one so soon."

"You're sure it's...his?" Lily asked. She could not help her skepticism.

"I'm certain." Remus' voice was firm. His amber eyes rooted on the locket. Almost unwillingly, like the words were drawn out of his mouth with tweezers, he continued, "It feels like him."

"Where did you find it?" Dumbledore asked.

"It's a long story. Short version is that Sirius' brother Regulus figured out Voldemort's secret. He died retrieving this one and left it in the Black residence. The only reason we're hearing of it now is that Sirius recently received a letter from Regulus telling him where to look."

Dumbledore's expression showed surprise, but a small triumph lit his eyes. "So Regulus died fighting against the dark in the end. How curious. Perhaps, after everything, the love of his brother prevailed…" The Headmaster trailed away, looking thoughtful. His gaze returned to the horcrux. "The 'S' inscribed on the locket…"

"I believe this may have belonged to Salazar Slytherin himself, Albus," Remus said. His brow knit in deliberation. "When I… saw what I saw that night, there was a flash of the Hogwart's crest. I'm wondering… are there other possessions of the Hogwart's founders that would have caught Riddle's interest?"

"Perhaps," Dumbledore said slowly. "Either I or even Lily could look into the old records we have on the history of the school."

Remus looked like he would dearly love to do the research himself. But he could not expose himself. Not yet. His amber eyes met Lily's. _I trust you._

"I can do that," Lily agreed. Remus nodded his thanks and slid the horcrux back into his pocket. She wrinkled her nose in distaste. "How long until we can get rid of it?"

"I would like to look further into different means of destroying it before we take any action," Dumbledore replied.

"Can we...put it somewhere in the meantime?" The idea of having a part of Voldemort anywhere near Harry made her nauseous.

Dumbledore gave her a sympathetic look. "I believe it would be best for it to remain here, where very few people have access to it. You could keep it in the cellar and ward the door. Alastor Moody has an excellent trunk for locking away dark things such as these. I could send the trunk over with him as soon as possible."

"That would be wonderful," she said. Remus agreed.

"I would very much like to not have it in my pocket," he said faintly. As Lily looked closer at him, she realized that he was paler than usual. It was possible that this was from staying up all night, but she was not so sure.

"Be careful, Remus," Dumbledore warned.

"I know," Remus replied. "But I can't lose it."

"You won't," Dumbledore said. "Just remember that you are still healing."

"I know," Remus said again. He ducked his head and scuffed the toe of his house shoes against the worn floorboards. It made him look smaller.

Dumbledore contemplated the young man for a moment, before saying, "I've been researching Tom Riddle's background on my own, Remus. I may be getting close to a second horcrux. If I should go investigate, would you join me?"

"Of course, Albus," Remus answered.

"Thank you," Dumbledore said softly. His expression was neutral, but Lily wondered if she had seen a flash of something unreadable in his eyes. He bid both of them farewell and disappeared into the living room.

"I'm sorry, Lily, for not saying anything before we left," Remus said to Lily quietly.

"It's okay," she replied. "Although James might be getting a piece of my mind later. Just, let me know next time you decide to run off after a horcrux." She was still shocked that the three of them had managed to find a horcrux so quickly. When she fell asleep before her husband came to bed, she had simply assumed that he and his friends were enjoying some much-needed brotherly bonding.

"And thank you for agreeing to research the Founders," Remus added.

"Remus, I want to be a part of this," she said firmly.

"We need you to be a part of this." His voice was convicted. "You could even bring some of the material home after school," he continued. "Merlin knows you'll be busy. If you need help grading or with Harry or anything, just say the word-"

"Thank you, Remus," she said. She inhaled deeply. Things were changing faster than she felt she could move. "Why do you think he was interested in the Founders?"

His eyebrows knit together. "I think...I think it was because of the school itself. You know how I always read _Hogwarts, A History_?"

"Yes." Her memory flashed to Remus lying half-dead in the hospital wing, her eyes on the pages of the book, her heart praying he would wake.

"I think that he found a home there, like all of us did, in a way. He was an orphan, you know. I doubt Voldemort has an understanding of what love is, but perhaps he understands belonging. Or at least the power behind the symbolism of things. He seems to be… sentimental about locations and objects that mean something to him. Places that hold power, whether in their memory or in actual magic. Maybe the Founders are the wrong direction, but it's the only lead I've got right now." He tried not to look discouraged as he said this, but Lily could read it in his eyes.

"Well, then we'll follow it," she said firmly.

"Yeah," he sighed.

"Remus?"

"Hm?"

"You don't think...you don't think he hid a horcrux in Hogwarts, do you?"

"Where do you think he would hide it?" Remus asked thoughtfully. "The Marauders probably explored every inch of that school. I can't think of a place…"

"Maybe he thought that no one would guess it?" Lily mused, unsure.

"Hogwarts has many mysteries," Remus murmured. "Maybe somewhere in its bones there's a piece of Voldemort's soul. How do you think he'd get it there in the first place? How long do you think it could stay hidden?"

"I don't know."

"Something else to think about, then. Maybe keep an eye out?" he suggested faintly.

"I suppose so." Needing to do something, she cleared away the empty mugs and put away the tin of tea. It was only after magically wiping down the counters and table that she realized that Remus was still standing there.

"Remus?"

His eyes were shut tightly, his left hand curled into a vibrating fist. His posture had completely changed from relaxed to tense. A breath hitched his shoulders.

"Remus?" she repeated, thinking about what Dumbledore said. Carefully, she reached out and touched his arm. His eyes snapped open. There was an infinitesimally small moment when the amber depths were filled with an overwhelming terror. Then the storm cleared and he blinked.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"I'm okay."

"Maybe...maybe we should just keep it in my desk drawer until Mad-Eye brings the trunk," she suggested. The corner of his mouth twitched wryly.

"That wasn't the horcrux," he said. Her disbelief must have shown on her face, because he added, "It was just me. It was happening before we even found the locket, Lily. I'm fine."

This was worrisome. "It's still happening?"

"It was a long night. Like Dumbledore said, I'm still healing," he shrugged. She gave him a penetrating stare. "I'll go put it in the office if it makes you feel better," he muttered. He avoided her gaze as he exited the room. She stared after him, wondering if James and Sirius knew.

But he returned with a relaxed expression, as if nothing had happened. No wonder he was fooling them all.

"Since Harry's asleep do you want to throw some spells around in the back? I want to cream James and Sirius in our next sparring round."

Lily chuckled and rolled her eyes. "Agreed." A dueling session might help her relax her jittering nerves. Monday would come quickly.

* * *

Slughorn's office was exactly as she remembered it. The house-elves had lit a fire when she arrived, which warmed the room considerably. Even though it was in the dungeons, there were tall lattice windows charmed into the wall, reflecting the view from several stories above. The couches looked as though the walrus-like professor could had just vacated them to prepare for a class. The only thing that had changed was that someone had packed away his personal belongings, leaving the shelves and the desk open for her.

She stood in silence for a few moments, remembering the professor. His flaws were always so apparent. He clearly favored some students over others, he was excessively opulent, and he made friends out of greedy utility. But somehow these were easy to excuse. This was the man who had made her feel welcome and included, even valued, at Hogwarts. Another person she cared for, fallen victim to Voldemort. A hard lump formed in her throat as she thought of Dorcas and Marlene.

A pop distracted her from her thoughts. Quickly blinking away the stinging in her eyes, she turned to see Della the house-elf bowing low.

"Hello, Della," Lily said.

"Della has volunteered to help Professor Potter get settled," Della said with an adoring smile. They had bonded on that harrowing Christmas night over many cups of tea. "Is there anything Della can do for miss?"

"Yes, thank you, Della. Do you mind clearing some of this dust? And if you find any papers lying around, maybe stack them…" Lily paused, glancing around. Her eyes landed on the desk. "There please. And if you have time, could you look for Slughorn's records for ordering ingredients?"

"Of course, it is Della's pleasure!"

"I'm going to check out the storeroom if you need me," Lily said.

There were actually two storerooms, a personal one for the potions professor, and one open for student use. Lily went to the class storeroom first, knowing that she would need this to be in order when she started. The regular inventory checklist was hanging by the door. The last ingredients checked out by students were dated before Christmas break. She unlocked the door with her new ring of keys (it took her four tries to find the right one). It smelled musty inside, a combination of earthy decay and preservatives.

She spent the next half hour double checking the inventory and making a list. On it were things that needed to be restocked because they were either used up or expired, as well as new ingredients to add. After Dumbledore's visit, she had contacted St. Mungo's to let them know that she would be moving to part time in her research. Then she began working furiously, planning lessons for the next week for all seven years of students. She bounced between excitement and the kind of nerves that made her sick to her stomach. Despite James' joking suggestions and distracting enthusiasm, she already had a list of potions that they would be working on.

Lily was just locking the storeroom when the door to the office opened. She looked up, expecting to see Dumbledore or McGonagall. It was neither. She froze, suddenly uncertain, as Severus tentatively entered. His eyes swept the room and landed on her.

"Lily," he said quietly.

"Severus," she returned the greeting. He shifted on his feet.

"Dumbledore told me," he explained. His face was open, almost like it was when they were children. "Congratulations."

"Thank you. This should be you."

"The choices I've made prevented that possibility."

"Why did you switch sides?" she asked suddenly.

Severus gave her an indecipherable stare. "It's personal."

The years of avoidance were thick in the air between them. Besides their encounter in the hospital wing after Remus' rescue and the order meeting after Christmas, their contact had been non-existent. Something changed irrevocably between the two of them that afternoon after their O.W.L.s. The end of their friendship was an old ache, but one that never really died.

"I'm proud of you Severus," she murmured before she could stop herself. He twitched. "What you're doing is brave."

"It's stupid," he said bitterly. She could almost see the walls coming back up, pushing her out. He looked away, conscious of how well she used to be able to read him. She could tell he was beginning to regret coming down to the dungeons. She did not know what to say next. He sighed. "I should go. The Dark Lord will notice if I'm gone for too long."

"The Dark Lord," she repeated softly, hating the way it made him sound like what he chose first, being a Death Eater. His lips thinned.

"You should keep an eye out for Lupin," he said suddenly. "And...and Harry. I have not heard his plans, but he's getting frustrated. He'll do something devastating. His spies are everywhere, Lily. It's only a matter of time before he finds them."

"He won't," she denied, fear clutching her heart.

"He will," Severus retorted. "He's too powerful, Lily. He can't be stopped. And he'll destroy anyone who gets in his way."

"Then why fight if you've already given up?" she demanded, her temper flaring.

"Because I-" he stopped abruptly, the skin around his eyes tight. His nostrils flared as he exhaled. "I don't know why I came here. Good-bye, Lily."

He spun around to the door, black robes billowing around him.

"Severus, wait. Don't leave like this."

He paused. His head turned so that she could only see his profile, hooked-nosed and pale. He seemed to be on the verge of something, a question he dared not ask. After a few seconds, he continued out the door, closing it gently behind him. Lily felt her heart break for him. It had been so long since they were sixteen. She thought that he had let go of the crush, moved on. How wrong she had been was unbalancing.

"Professor Potter?" Della's little voice squeaked. "I found the ingredient order records."

"Thank you, Della," she said numbly. She took them and decided to complete the orders from home, wishing dearly that James would be done with work soon. She needed his arms around her, reassuring her that she was not a terrible person. And Snape's warning about Remus and Harry was still a vice around her lungs. She needed to go home.

* * *

The Monday Lily started, she was so nervous that she was almost certain her intestines were going to wriggle right out of her mouth. They nearly did.

"You'll be brilliant," James said, kissing her as deeply as ever. She wished she had his confidence. She left before him and Sirius, after making sure that Remus had everything he needed to handle Harry for the day.

In the faculty lounge, her new colleagues were full of encouragement. Flitwick wished her a squeaky "Good Luck!" Professor Kaelie Coelus of Astronomy gave her some last minute advice on how to start a class. The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Clive Camduin, shyly nodded from where he stood with his back to a wall. Strangely, it was Minerva's severe censure for dawdling that gave Lily the most confidence as she left the room.

Her first class was fifth year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, something for which she was beyond grateful. The fifth years were actually starting to take their classes seriously in the second semester, with O.W.L.s looming over them. And Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw rivalries were not as volatile as Gryffindor and Slytherin. The only issue she knew she would have with that class was that the Ravenclaws were slow to trust her ability to fully prepare them for their exams. She tried not to think that they might be right.

By the end of the day, she knew exactly which students she would need to watch. Her fourth class was a group of seventh year Gryffindor and Slytherin N.E.W.T. students (why these houses were paired together for classes Lily would never understand). Perhaps it was because these students were nearing the end of their career as students, or maybe the war was fuelling the fire between the two houses, but at once, the atmosphere of the room was openly hostile.

The rivalry seemed to center around Kingsley Shacklebolt and Hydrus Meliflua. Shacklebolt was a tall black Gryffindor student and Meliflua was a seedy-looking Slytherin. At the beginning of class, Shacklebolt was focused and quiet. Until Meliflua made a side comment that Lily did not hear and Shacklebolt nearly exploded. This had surprised Lily, because the boy had seemed measured and unruffled up until this point. The fight had ended with Meliflua drenched in the beginnings of a polyjuice potion, which covered the Slytherin student with a nasty sunburn. Shakily, Lily took points from both Gryffindor and Slytherin and sent Meliflua up to the hospital wing. Any confidence she had felt after her first three classes was punctured like a balloon.

"Ah, yes, you'll need to watch those two," Minerva counseled in the faculty room when Lily told her about it. "Shacklebolt appears very even-tempered, but Meliflua gets under his skin. The political climate does not help."

"What do I do if it happens again?" Lily asked, desperate for advice.

"Stop it before it starts," Minerva replied patiently. "It will take time, but eventually you'll learn the signs. And for heaven's sakes, do not let them sit near each other."

"Okay… anyone else I should watch for?"

"Well I don't like giving you any expectations before you've even met the students," Minerva began thoughtfully. "But I suppose there is one more pair. Third years, you'll have them later this week. You probably already know Meg Hapley. Her father, Nelson, is an auror. Very bright young girl, a privilege to have in my house. Exceptional chaser on the quidditch team. She and Delphina Rosier have never seen eye to eye."

"Thanks…"

"You're the authority, Lily," Minerva said firmly. "Make sure they know that."

When she returned home, Lily was exhausted. Sirius had the gall to laugh at her story about Shacklebolt and Meliflua, which he instantly regretted when he had bat-bogeys flapping all over his face only moments later. Remus was sympathetic, but encouraging. James just comforted her with his presence.

"Tomorrow is coming," he said gently with a kiss on the cheek. "And you get to wake up in the morning and try again."

Lily took McGonagall's advice the next day and sat Meg and Delphina far away from each other. Luckily, nothing disastrous happened (besides the typical potion-induced calamities). In fact, the day went quite smoothly. Despite the nerves still writhing in her belly as a new class walked in and the million and one things she had to remember, she was beginning to enjoy herself. Lesson plans were stressful, but she had a curriculum outline from Slughorn that was extremely helpful.

On Friday, a kind Hufflepuff fourth year named Cynthia, turned in her poison antidote at the end of her last class of the week and said, "I think you're doing a really good job so far, Professor Potter."

Lily felt a little glow in her chest as she graded the antidotes that afternoon in the faculty lounge.

Besides teaching, she was also learning to balance being a mother and a fighter for the Order of the Phoenix. So, she spent an hour pummeling her brains with original documents from the Founders' era. She felt like she was getting nowhere. She did not even know what exactly she was looking for, only that it would be a small object that was symbolically significant to either Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Gryffindor. After a week of dealing with rivalries, potion spills, and distrustful students, her brain felt like mush. She leaned back in her chair and rubbed her eyes tiredly. She did not notice Minerva until the woman stood right across from her.

"How was your first week?" she asked with a sharp, evaluating gaze.

"Not as bad as I thought it would be," Lily answered with a small smile. Minerva returned a rare one of her own. Her eyes scanned the documents that Lily had spread out in front of her.

"Interested in the founders?" she inquired with a raised brow.

"Um, yes," Lily replied, feeling incredibly awkward lying to the woman after everything she'd done for her this week. But Dumbledore had instructed them to keep their search for the horcruxes completely secret. Minerva's ability to detect less than candid responses seemed to work on adults too. Her lips thinned, but she did not press.

"Well, I'd better head up to the Great Hall to proctor dinner," she said.

"Oh my gosh, it's already dinner-time?" Lily gasped. "I should have been home an hour ago." She frantically reorganized her books and documents into a pile and haphazardly stuffed them into an empty box, which she shrunk and stuffed into her bag. Minerva laughed quietly.

"Good-night Lily."

"Good-night! And thank you so much for your help. I would've crashed and burned without it."

"It was my pleasure."

Lily hurriedly gathered her things and tossed them into her bag with the box of research materials. The faculty lounge was hidden behind a giant landscape on the seventh floor. She slipped out into the hallway lined with suits of armor and closed it carefully. She walked briskly in the direction of the stairs, wondering how many of the portraits and tapestries hid secret rooms. She thought back to her conversation with Remus. The vastness of Hogwarts was daunting. Voldemort could have used any one of these rooms as a hiding place.

 _I need to find a place where something could be well hidden,_ she thought to herself as she passed the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. There was a sound like sand settling. She paused and looked to her right. A door had appeared in the wall that she was certain had been blank before. The Room of Requirement. She checked up and down the hallway, but it was empty, as most of the school was at dinner.

Cautiously, she approached the door. She brushed the knob with her fingers, then grasped it and turned it. It was not locked and swung easily inwards. Checking the hall once more, she stepped inside. And gasped.

It was a room like a cathedral, only bigger. Its ceilings were high and vaulted to account for mountainous piles of… rubbish. The piles formed a labyrinth of paths that twisted through the valleys and gorges. She stared at the nearest items. Broomsticks, books, notes, old chairs and desks, illegal Zonko's products. All of it secretly ensconced by generations of Hogwarts students. Her mouth dropped open in amazement at the castle's genius. Finding something here could take years.

* * *

"I mean, there had to be millions of things in there. _Expulso!_ You don't think Voldemort would- _Protego! Tarantellgra!_ \- hide something there, do you?"

James leapt backwards, the tap-dancing hex popping in the grass where his feet had been seconds ago. It was dark and their dinner was digesting as they duelled. But even in the sable night, Lily was pleased to see in the flashing spells that James' forehead was wrinkled in concentration. He sent a silent jinx her way and she ducked behind the elm tree.

"Don't know," he grit out. "Moony?"

"Worth a look around," Remus said from his comfortable position on the patio, which was protected from the wintry night by a warming spell. Next to him, Sirius was curled in dog form, letting Harry pull at his ears.

"'A look around' could take a very long time," Lily panted, shooting tickling curses around the dark tree trunk.

"Good thing you're there all semester then. Although I hope it does not take that long," James said. "And you can't hide there forever Lils, it's not fair."

"I'm using my resources," she responded mildly. Another curse went flying by her head and into the hedges. She rolled out from behind the tree and hurled a volley of jelly-legs jinxes at James. He blocked the first two, but the third hit and he toppled backwards.

"Petrificus totalus!" she said, snapping her wand forward. James' arms and legs sprang together and he lay on the frozen grass, stiff as a board. Sirius pounced off the patio immediately and began licking James' face enthusiastically. Remus guffawed loudly at James' misfortune. After taking a few moments to enjoy the rare burst of laughter, Lily took pity on her husband and freed him.

"Blurgh! Gross, Padfoot, get off!" James brought his hands up and pushed the bear-like dog away. He rolled to his stomach and got to his feet, Sirius prancing around his legs. He scowled at Remus, who was still chuckling, and Harry, who was clapping his hands and chanting, "Pafu, Pafu!"

"Maybe next time you won't go so easy on me," Lily suggested smugly.

"Yeah," James replied, wiping his sleeve over his drool-soaked face. "You know what, the sooner we tell Dumbledore about our animagus forms, the better. Maybe he'll put a stop to your shenanigans."

Padfoot woofed happily.

"You're telling him?" Lily asked.

"Yep," James said. He exchanged a glance with Remus. "It's just weird, you know? There's never really a good time. We were thinking the order meeting this week. We always meet alone with him afterwards, so no one will be listening."

"You think Peter could spying as a rat," she concluded.

"It's possible." Sirius had transformed back to his human form. He sat on the grass with his long legs splayed out. "Most likely at Hogwarts, as the Ministry has enough spies to go around."

"We get memos from this Arwel Atkins bloke in the Minister's office almost daily about it," James continued. He was now brushing grass from his pants. "Pamphlets about the Imperius curse, how to tell if your co-worker is working for Voldemort. Honestly, Bagnold should leave that kind of thing to the aurors. All she's succeeding in doing is making everyone more paranoid. MLE runs from department to department instead of focusing on the world outside the government." He rubbed his face tiredly. "Anyway, Pettigrew would be more useful at Hogwarts."

"I could keep an eye out for him," Lily suggested. "But I'll only be able to watch the dungeon floors for the most part."

"Well…" Sirius drawled, wearing a funny expression. "There is one way you could keep an eye on the whole castle at once."

"What?" Lily eyed him, James, and Remus suspiciously. Even in the dim light spilling from the cottage windows, she could see their mischievous looks.

"In Filch's office, there's a drawer labeled 'Confiscated and Highly Dangerous,'" James confided with a proud grin. "You'll find a blank piece of parchment. If you can nick it when old Argus isn't looking, we'll explain the rest."

Lily could not help but roll her eyes. Of course the Marauders had a way to spy on the whole castle. How else would they get away with everything without getting caught?

"Well I'm going to bed," she announced. "It's freezing out here and I'm dead tired."

As the conversation had progressed, she could feel her last dregs of energy waning. She forced her aching legs to the patio and leaned down to pick up Harry.

"We've got him, Lils," Remus said, waving her off. "Besides, he needs to see Uncle Moony kick the snot out of his godfather."

Sirius stuck out his tongue at Remus childishly.

"Fine," she relinquished easily. "Don't keep him up too late. And Sirius, I swear, if he starts sticking his tongue out at people, the consequences for your own tongue will not be pleasant."

She did not linger long enough to hear Sirius' protests.

* * *

a/n: A lighter ending, because I'm in a good mood :) I want to get Lily more involved in this whole mess, so I'm excited to have her in Hogwarts and teaching Slughorn's classes. Although I don't know if Lily would want teaching to be her career, I do think that she would be willing to sacrifice some time and energy in the classroom if it helped with the war effort and honoring Slughorn's memory (as annoying as I found him).


	22. Holding Ground (James)

Hey there!

A few quick notes: There was some confusion on where Lily would be staying while subbing as Potions Master. She will be living at home, not Hogwarts, and I edited to make this clearer. So if you were similarly unsure, now you know :)

As for this chapter... I heavily debated splitting it into two parts, but I decided to leave it as is, so you get a nice, long, action-packed episode today. Anyway, thanks for reading!

-Cat

* * *

Chapter 22

 _Holding Ground (James)_

Minister Bagnold's office was located at the top of the Ministry. The entire floor was dedicated to the Minister of Magic's service. The offices dealt primarily in politics and foreign relations. There were fancy conference rooms, giant portraits of famous witches and wizards, and enormous vestibules leading into the offices of the more important staff. James and Sirius exited the elevator and stood uncertainly in the Minister's lobby. Before them was a statue of Merlin, which rose up from the obsidian floor in pearl-white marble.

"Ah, Aurors Potter and Black." A short man with a thin mustache appeared from a door on the other side of the lobby. "Welcome. I am Arwel Atkins, personal assistant to the Minster. Minister Bagnold is waiting in her office, if you will follow me."

 _So this is Arwel Atkins, the thorn in my side,_ James grumbled to himself. Sirius quirked an eyebrow at him and followed the short wizard. Yesterday, there had been yet another Imperius curse false alarm in the Department of the Misuse of Magical Artifacts. The floor had been crawling with MLE on a pointless witch-hunt, leaving the employee interrelationships even more hostile. If the Death Eater plan was to divide and conquer, the Ministry was already do most of the work for them.

They were lead down a wide hallway of enchanted windows towards double doors engraved with the Ministry seal. The Minister's summons was highly unusual. A noble barn owl had brought James a blue envelope with a silver seal that morning requesting his presence in the Minister's office at precisely 11:00 a.m. A moment later, Sirius had wandered in with a bemused expression and a letter of his own.

James glanced out the windows, noting that they showed a sunny summer day. It was almost laughably opposite of the weather they were really experiencing. When they reached the door, Atkins rapped smartly on the heavy oak panels.

"Come in," said the Minister's voice. The door swung open on its own and allowed them to enter. James had been in the office a few times before, during Harold Minchum's term in office. It had changed subtly. In the past, it had the general sense of an executive office, but now it looked more like a war room. The increase in fatal muggle attacks, the number of disappearances, and the influx of dark creatures had put a strain on the Ministry. On the wall was a huge map of the British Isles, with magical markers indicating the most recent skirmishes and attacks. Below the map was a table covered in memos, additional maps, and the files of known Death Eaters.

At the broad oak desk in the center of the room, the Minister sat in a high-backed purple chair, a quick-quotes quill scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment in front of Bagnold was a sturdy, severe woman. She was chosen almost unanimously as the next Minister because she was seen as a figure of steadfastness and leadership during this never-ending war. James believed her to be the best choice at the time. But as James looked at her now, she appeared…run-down. Almost fragile. Far from the pillar of strength she had been. _Do we all look like that?_

"Thank you for coming on such short notice," she greeted them. Even her voice had lost some substance.

"Why are we needed?" Sirius asked bluntly. Her gaze moved almost languidly to Sirius.

"I have some questions for you," she answered simply. She gestured the chairs in front of her desk, clearly indicating that they should sit.

"We're fine standing," James said. "What about?" He was confused and Sirius seemed to be as well.

"Well, firstly, I wanted to check in, Mr. Potter," she said with a smile. "How is your family? I know Dumbledore has been keeping you under protection. That was a close call on Halloween."

"We're fine," James answered shortly.

"We were all relieved to hear that everyone was safe."

"Not everyone," Sirius snapped. James' hands clenched at the memory of the hours Sirius spent at the Ministry, nearly begging for help to save Remus.

"Of course, not everyone," Bagnold said. There was a hint of apology in her voice, but it sounded shallow. There was a soft tapping on the door that sounded like an owl. Bagnold and Atkins ignored it.

"Are we here to discuss my family?" James asked.

"The Ministry would like to offer further protection to you." she replied. "And to Mr. Black as well. I understand he has been staying with you."

"Thank you, but no."

"Perhaps further protection for your wife in her commute? I hear she has taken the position of long-term substitution for Potions Master at the school. A shame what happened to Horace Slughorn. The school may not be the safest-"

"Albus has everything covered," James said, unsure of why he was refusing. "And Lily is very capable of defending herself." Somehow, he believed that she would be better off without Ministry goons following her around.

"I just thought I would extend the offer." Bagnold seemed unoffended.

Some instinct was nudging him. His eyes flicked around the office, but everything appeared serene. The owl tapped on the door insistently. It sounded like a second had joined it. Again, both the Minister and her assistant took no notice.

She stood suddenly, making her way to the map on the wall. It seemed to respond to her, zooming into a complex diagram of magical London. Some areas glowed red, places James recognized as recent attacks. There were small banners floating above places were missing persons and wanted Death Eaters were last seen. Then the diagram changed and James felt a strange sensation when he recognized Godric's Hollow. A banner appeared in the red glow over Number 7, Founders' Lane. It read: 'Remus John Lupin. Last Seen, 31 October, 1981. Lycanthrope. Classification: Level 8. Lethal force authorized if violent.'

Next to James, Sirius stiffened. James' eyes scanned the office again, feeling oddly cornered. Atkins was standing by the door, looking bored. The owls were still tapping. By the woodpecker-like tempo, about five more had arrived.

"Is Remus Lupin staying with you, too?" Bagnold asked quietly.

"Why?" Sirius demanded.

"It's just a question," she said smoothly. "I'm concerned for your safety."

"He's not dangerous," James said, anger warming his face.

"He's a werewolf. And he's insane." Sirius was almost vibrating in rage now, but Bagnold did not seem to notice. She continued in a flat, trance-like voice. "Don't you think your wife and child would be much safer if he were removed? The Department of Regulation and Con-"

"No," James growled. His hand shot out and grabbed Sirius' arm before he could say or do anything rash. They needed to leave, now. There was a distant rumble in his ears. "If that will be all-"

"Not quite." Bagnold's attention revolved from the map, which went back to London behind her. There was something odd about her eyes that James was just noticing. They were glazed. Another rumble, not in his imagination. _Was that thunder?_ "I know that Dumbledore has a secret order and that you are both members. Tell me, what does Dumbledore hope to gain without the Ministry's support?"

 _Dumbledore's always coordinated with her if needed… she already gave her support._ Then it clicked. James glanced at Sirius, silently communicating. _Imperius. Need to act soon…_

The double doors burst open and a Ministry witch came rushing in, her hair flying around her face. Owls flocked inside, each with a red envelope. "Attack," the witch gasped. "Ministry under attack!"

Bagnold's face remained disconcertingly blank as her wand raised. "Avada-"

"Stupefy!" James shouted. The Minister crumbled. The witch shrieked and ran out of the room. Sirius spun, wand out, and stunned Atkins. Outside of the office there was shouting and the sound of running.

"What the hell?!" Sirius yelled. "How long do you think-"

"Too long," James answered. He motioned to the stunned body of Atkins. "I bet this one is a Death Eater in disguise, keeping her under control. Come on."

James darted out into the hall of windows. The enchantment on them was broken, showing the dark belly of the earth. At the end of the hall, witches and wizards were scurrying in a panic around the elevators, the marble Merlin towering over them. James stared at the crowd in dismay. How were they supposed to get down to the fighting in this mess?

"This can't be the only way out," Sirius muttered. The elevator dinged and people crammed themselves inside. "How much do you want to bet Death Eaters are waiting on the other side, rounding them up?"

The crowd did not notice a patronus soaring over their heads. It was Dumbledore's phoenix. James heard the old wizard's voice echo in his head:

" _Severus contacted. Voldemort trying to corner you both. Don't do anything predictable."_ James felt that this about summed up what had happened. The meeting with the Minister was a trap, designed to keep them on the upper floors. Sirius looked at him wide-eyed.

"Let's go back to the Minister's office," James suggested. "I rarely see her going through the main elevators, but she's here every day."

They retreated along the underground corridor. The office was as they left it, except a red glow was spreading across the map London where the Ministry of Magic was located. James felt his face pale. How had they not seen this coming?

"Secret entrances, perfect," Sirius grumbled. "Good thing we practiced finding the damn things in Hogwarts." He did not mention how it took them the better part of seven years. Without speaking, they began checking behind portraits, pulling books off of bookshelves, and moving furniture from the wall. Finally, James' pulled down an empty torch bracket and a huge section of wall slid to the side. An elevator grating lay behind it.

"Cliche," Sirius snorted. "Let's get the Minister."

 _Mobilicorpus,_ James thought, pointing his wand at Bagnold's unconscious body. Like a creepy marionette, she floated into the elevator under his direction. He checked on Atkins. The way his skin was starting to bubble like wax confirmed his suspicions. _Polyjuice potion._

"What about the others?" James asked, thinking of the crowd of people in the lobby.

"Voldemort won't hurt them if they don't fight," Sirius said. "He won't want to spill too much magical blood." But they stared at each other in indecision. Sirius rolled his eyes. "Come on."

They exited the Minister's office towards the crowds. But before James had even started coming up with an efficient way to evacuate them, eight different spells flew towards them down the hallway.

"Shit!" Sirius yelled. He grabbed James arm and pulled him back inside. The spells ricocheted off the corner of the wall, blowing up a cloud of dust and debris. They retreated into the elevator just as the Death Eaters spilled into the office. Bagnold floated like a grotesque party balloon against the compartment's back wall.

"Come out, come out," drawled Lucius Malfoy's voice. "It's no use hiding."

 _He thinks we're cornered. He doesn't realize this is an elevator._ James half grinned. He threw up a shield charm and chanced a look out into the office. Malfoy stood in front of a group of seven other Death Eaters. They were severely outnumbered, but the sight of Malfoy made his insides coil with rage. He felt reckless.

"Did Voldemort send you to do his dirty work?" James asked.

"The Dark Lord trusts me to carry out his most crucial tasks, Potter," Malfoy said with quiet confidence.

"And he sent seven other Death Eaters so that they could what… babysit? Make sure you don't get scared and run away?"

"I would never run from the chance to prove my worth to him," he sneered. A light flashed from his wand and exploded near James' face. He pulled back, his cheek stinging from the heat. "Even when he has already demonstrated his trust in my loyalty."

"Eight on two. Brave of you."

"Hiding is not very Gryffindor-like, Potter."

"Well there's a brain under all this brawn."

Sirius snorted. James shrugged and whispered, "Best I could come up with." He thought regretfully about the people in the lobby. But Sirius was probably right, Voldemort would not want to spill too much magical blood. "Should we go?"

"I suppose so…Hey, Malfoy!"

"Black, I thought you'd run away and left Potter to die alone."

"Fat chance. Tell Cissy I say hello! If Voldemort doesn't kill you for losing us first!" He punched the button that read 'Atrium' and the grill slammed shut. There were shouts of surprise, quickly disappearing as the elevator shot to the side. James and Sirius grabbed the handles hanging from the ceiling to keep from falling over as their ride took unexpected ups and downs, twists and turns. Bagnold bounced hard, no matter what James did. Hopefully she would just have bruises. The elevator ground to a halt and the grill opened.

The Atrium was a battleground. The first thing that James noticed was that the Fountain of Magical Brethren had been destroyed. Its golden pieces were scattered across the dark floor. Those still fighting were recognizable as aurors and members of the order, and the occasional brave witch or wizard from other departments. _Where is everyone else?_ James barely finished that thought when a spell came flying towards them.

He quickly conjured a nonverbal shield, then extended a ward around Bagnold. The fireplaces lining the walls were flaring green every few seconds, spitting more Death Eaters into the Atrium. They were outnumbered. How had this happened so quickly?

"Reducto!"

Sirius' shout brought James back to attention. The spell flew into a wall, blasting it into pieces and sending shrapnel into a nearby group of masked individuals. A second group noticed James and Sirius and charged towards them, spells flying with sharp cracks against James' shield. James returned their fire, but the group was too large, nearly six advancing towards them.

 _Think, think…_ His eyes landed on the golden pieces of fountain behind the Death Eaters. He pointed his wand towards them and the pieces shivered, then became a pride of angry lionesses. They sprang on the Death Eaters with roars of fury. Fighters in the area scattered like leaves before a strong wind.

"Haha, nice one James!" Sirius shouted.

James gave him a brittle grin, eyeing the clumps of fighters. Masked Death Eaters were everywhere. "There's too many of them."

"What now?"

"We need to retreat, Sirius, everyone here is going to get killed," James said quickly, reason overhauling any pride. He scanned the fireplaces. They were all still expelling Death Eaters like faucets. "Come on, get everyone to head for the last fireplace and escape. We can cover each other."

"Right." Sirius darted towards Finch and Nelson and gestured towards the fireplaces. James sprinted towards Moody, blocking curses as he went, Bagnold soaring behind him.

Moody was flanked by Frank and Scrimgeour. Frank's right arm was soaked in blood, but he still used his left to fling hexes towards his opponent. Moody and Scrimgeour appeared unharmed.

"Potter, good to see you still alive," Moody growled. His dark eye focused behind his head. "That the Minister?"

"Yeah," James panted. "No time to explain. We're getting everyone to head towards the last fireplace. We can't hold the Ministry, Moody. We have to go."

Moody toppled three Death Eaters with a blasting hex to the floor beneath their feet, then scanned the Atrium. Dementors were now appearing like specters. The order members cast patronuses that swirled protectively above the heads of the remaining fighters. Moody nodded curtly. "Agreed."

As the word to retreat spread, fighters began pushing through the sea of black to the fireplace in the corner. The defensive aurors formed themselves into an arc, guarding the fireplace while other fighters evacuated. The Death Eaters closed in. James felt a sickening swooping sensation at Bellatrix's high pitched shrieks of anger as her prey escaped. As people fell to curses, they were dragged by friends into the door to escape.

James passed the responsibility for the Minister to Dedalus Diggle, who dragged her to the fireplace, grabbed her arm, and vanished in a roar of fire. Then his heart stuttered when Nelson flew across his vision into the corner of the mantle. He slumped, eyes closed, blood trickling from his forehead. Scrimgeour levitated him away. _Please still be alive…_

"Potter!"

The enraged shout came from the other side of the Atrium. James felt a hint of satisfaction through his worry when he recognized the gleaming blond hair emerging from the elevators. Before Malfoy could come any closer, his way was blocked by three furious lionesses. Sirius' bark of laughter catapulted into the high ceiling. In the sudden silence falling over the Death Eaters, the sound echoed eerily.

James looked around in confusion. The Death Eaters were lowering their wands and backing away. Only James, Sirius, Mad-Eye, and Frank were left, their backs against the fireplace. Then, the Death Eaters parted like water, and Voldemort appeared in their midst. His snake-like face betrayed nothing as he regarded the last of the fighters. Fear rose unbidden in James stomach, but he held himself erect. The knowledge of the horcruxes burned like courage. Voldemort's red eyes settled on him.

"It seems my loyal followers have failed yet again to do as I requested," Voldemort said in a high whisper that carried through the chamber. In James' peripheral vision, Malfoy seemed to shrink. "No matter. I can ask here. Where is the werewolf?"

"Do you honestly expect us to answer?" James asked. His voice was amazingly steady.

"You cannot protect him, James." The false sympathy was like nails on a chalkboard. "It must be hard to let that go even after I crushed his mind into oblivion. You've failed your little band of friends. You were their protector weren't you?"

"I _am_." James corrected, bristling. Voldemort smiled mirthlessly, his gaze turning to Sirius.

"And Sirius. What a disappointment you've been. To your family's noble ideals as well as to your friends. Give up the werewolf. You've done it before."

Sirius went white and James' blood felt cold in his veins. Sirius' lips parted. "No," he said. It was quiet, but James was relieved to hear some strength in the denial.

"Do you really think they've forgiven you?" Voldemort laughed softly.

"Yes," James said firmly, stepping forward. Voldemort's face hardened.

"Give up the werewolf and I will stop hunting your son. And yours, Longbottom."

The statement rang in James' ears. Frank shifted behind him.

"Time to go," Moody whispered huskily. James gave him an imperceptible nod. He lifted his fist behind his back and held out three fingers. Two fingers.

"I don't believe empty promises." One finger. Voldemort's eyes narrowed.

Zero.

The four wizards leapt towards the fireplace. Heat flared against James twice; Frank and Moody disappeared into the flames.

"Protego!" Curses exploded around him. "Go Padfoot!"

Another rush of fire.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Voldemort's wand stabbed forward like a dagger. The green streak seemed to fly in slow motion. James felt like he was watching from outside his body as he dove for the fireplace behind Sirius. The seconds passed like molasses, the flames engulfed him, but not before the curse hit…

And rebounded. James felt a reverberation deeper than his bones, a stirring in his chest. The last thing James saw was the killing curse ricocheting up into the dome of the Atrium. Voldemort screamed in fury and James was gone.

* * *

"We were held in groups for several hours before being informed that we were to resume work the following day. New assignments will be given, but apparently the Ministry will continue to function despite the events of today, with some changes. A new Minister of Magic will be appointed, by Voldemort I presume. Seven fighters are dead…" Arthur Weasley trailed away and swallowed hard. His face was the color of milk. "They've… hung their bodies in the Atrium as a warning."

"Thank you, Arthur," Dumbledore said quietly. The mood in the Room of Requirement was somber. James barely heard Arthur's report. He was busy examining the the tiny crevices in his hands. Remus' worried gaze bored into him, but he ignored it, allowing Dumbledore's words to flow over him.

"The Ministry is under Voldemort's control and we must prepare for the repercussions. Arthur Weasley, Edgar Bones, Sturgis Podmore, and Ava Finch have all volunteered to risk returning to work tomorrow. All are pure or half-blood, therefore safer by Voldemort's standards. In addition, none have known connections to the Order of the Phoenix. Hopefully this will allow us insight to the new politics of the current situation.

"Those of you already under protection, please maintain it for your own safety. If any of the rest of you feel that you should be going into hiding, alert me at the end of this meeting and we will arrange something. In the meantime, Hogwarts will remain a safe place for your children. Myself and my colleagues have a duty to protect the students of this school. Death Eaters will only enter this place after the last teacher's dying breath."

 _Lily_ … She was next to him, unusually quiet and pale. It had fallen to her and Minerva McGonagall to tell Meg that her father was dead. Grief made James' insides turn to ice. He could still picture Nelson's kind face, Nelson falling, the way his wife had collapsed into his chest when he told her. But he could not cry. Because the thought that he and Lily could die and leave Harry an orphan overwhelmed him with fear.

His lungs stopped working for a moment. He was alive. The killing curse must have missed. This was the only explanation for why he was not dead. He could not think of another one. Unforgivable Curses could not be blocked. But the bruise on his chest throbbed in denial. He thought about the feeling that had washed over him when the curse flew away. _It was the heat of battle. You were seeing things that weren't really there._

A hand on his shoulder caused him to start. Lily was talking to him, her emerald eyes dull and concerned.

"James, are you okay?"

He nodded. A stone in his throat made it impossible to speak just yet. He looked away from her and noticed for the first time that the meeting was over. People were trickling away. Pale-faced, Millicent Bagnold was being lead away by McGonagall, who was speaking to her in soft tones. Sirius was staring at Finch as she slipped out, his brow furrowed. Remus seemed lost in thought, wandering towards the play area to get Harry. James' mind quickly rolled over the events of the day and he came to a decision.

"Can we stay for a little? I need to talk to Dumbledore."

"Of course."

Soon, the Room of Requirement was empty. Hagrid was the last to leave, shooting the four of them an odd look. The round table shrank so that it would seat just five adults. They took their seats. Dumbledore examined James over half-moon glasses with intelligent, but exhausted eyes.

"Thank you for your warning, Albus," James started. "I don't know if Sirius and I would have gotten out in time without it."

"I'm glad you were able to escape," Dumbledore murmured.

"It was close. When we were leaving, we were stopped by Lucius Malfoy. He seemed… very confident in Voldemort's trust in him. Especially considering the amount of times he's failed him in the last few months."

"What do you think that means, James?" Dumbledore asked. His blue gaze was penetrating.

"Would Voldemort would entrust his followers with horcruxes?" The idea was almost absurd, but the search for horcruxes had come to a halt. The only progress they had made was Lily's daily searches of the Room of Hidden Things, which was becoming more and more frustrating. James doubted that there even was a horcrux in there, but Lily was more patient than him. This was the only lead they had since her discovery of the potential hiding place nearly two weeks ago.

"So…" Sirius said slowly. "You think Malfoy might have been given a horcrux to hide? Would Voldemort really tell someone?"

"Probably not," Dumbledore replied. "But perhaps he did not actually tell Malfoy what it was. Only that it was important." He tented his fingers and his silver eyebrows drew together. "From my research, I can only find a handful of places Riddle would have considered. It is, in fact, quite possible that he decided to hide some with his followers."

"And the idiot was arrogant enough to boast about it," Sirius breathed in awe.

"That's what I was thinking," James agreed. The pause in conversation was broken by Harry's soft sighing breath. He had fallen asleep in Lily's lap. She fondly smoothed his unruly Potter hair, though her expression was concentrated on the problem.

"We can't just break in and search," she said in a low voice.

"Why not?" Sirius asked. "We have the plans and know the wards."

"The wards will have changed, first of all, and the plans are probably not exact," Lily pointed out. "Secondly, Malfoy Manor is large and most likely brimming with dark artifacts. You were lucky when you found the locket. Kreacher happened to know where it was and willingly gave it to you. Trust me when I say, searching for a small object in a large space filled with other objects is time consuming."

"Lily is correct," Dumbledore acknowledged wearily. "The risk of being discovered is high. And you will not be able to return to the place several times to search like Lily and the Room of Hidden Things. Unless we have a clear idea of where to look, we will have to stay away from Malfoy Manor."

James felt frustration welling up inside. He cast about for ideas. "What about Snape?" he asked. "Couldn't he look around without suspicion?"

"Snape? Really?" Sirius asked incredulously.

"Desperate times," James sighed with a wave of his hand. Really desperate. He did not even fully believe Snape was on their side.

"I'm afraid not. Severus' position is delicate. Besides, he has not been told about the horcruxes and I would like to keep it that way for now. It's not that I don't trust him," Dumbledore added when Sirius straightened. "He is an excellent Occlumens, but if Riddle gets the slightest hint of what we are up to, the game will be over."

"Well do you want us to find the bloody thing or not?" James snapped.

"James." James felt Lily's hand on his like cool water.

"I know. Sorry Albus, I'm just… we're running out of options." James ran his other hand over his eyes, feeling the beginnings of a headache in his temples. It seemed like it had been weeks since he received the little blue summons to the Minister's office just that morning.

"I was in Malfoy Manor for four days."

Remus' voice was so low, James almost missed it over the sound of his heartbeat. The werewolf had not spoken the entire meeting. He uncovered his eyes. Remus was looking at the table, face pale.

"I only saw the main floor and the cellar. And I still have blank spots. It could take some time and patience, but maybe there's something I noticed subconsciously… there was something in the sitting room, but I can't quite… I could try harder to remember…"

"Moony, you don't need to do that," James said at once.

"There is… another way," Dumbledore enunciated slowly. He was watching Remus over the rim of his half-moon glasses, evaluating him. "If you are willing, it's in my office. Do you understand what I mean?"

"What-" Sirius started. Remus silenced him with a jerk of his head. He was gazing at Dumbledore, apparently thinking hard.

"I… understand. It won't be very precise. There will be damage. And… I don't… I can't-" His complexion was like oatmeal.

"You don't have to," Dumbledore answered.

"I can leave them here with you," Remus whispered.

"That would be okay?" Dumbledore's voice was gentle and his face lined with melancholy.

"Yes, I-" Remus' voice hitched. "That would be fine."

"Okay. I'll be right back." James watched in confusion as Dumbledore conjured a small glass phial and left the room. Remus closed his eyes. His face contorted into private anguish James had never seen. Then he touched the tip of his wand to his temple and carefully drew it away. A string of silver remained connected to the tip of his wand. James watched with fascination as Remus took the phial and the silver strand poured inside. Once his wand was free of the magic, Remus corked the phile and placed it on the table. He looked ten years older.

"I can take Harry," he said quietly. He lifted the child from Lily's lap into his arms. Harry wrapped his arms around Remus' neck in his sleep. "I'll be at home. You can stay if you need to."

"Remus." He paused. Lily stood and put a hand on his tense arm. "Let me go with you. You'll need company."

He nodded tightly and met James' eyes, saw the confusion. "If you need to see… it's fine. Let me know what you find. You'll understand soon. I…" Remus opened and closed his mouth several times. Finally he managed, "I'm sorry."

James did not know what to say. Lily and Remus left as Dumbledore entered, levitating a large stone basin in front of him. Sirius gasped.

"No."

"He's given you his permission, Sirius," Dumbledore said gravely. Sirius swallowed, looking nauseous.

"I-I can't," he muttered, staring at the basin with wide blue eyes. "I can't see what I-what I-" He couldn't finish.

"It's over, Sirius," Dumbledore replied in a soothing tone. "You were not at fault. It's done and now we can use it."

"What… what are we doing?" James asked apprehensively. Understanding was dawning in the recesses of his brain, but he was searching for a chance that he was wrong.

"These are Remus' memories," Dumbledore explained. He uncorked them and poured them into the cloudy contents of the basin. "This pensieve will allow us to view them."

Now James felt sick. He stared at the opening of the pensieve, feeling like he was staring into hell itself. He did not trust himself to speak.

"Neither of you have to go. I can go alone."

 _Coward_. James cleared his throat. "N-no. He needs us to do this for him."

Sirius jerked his head tremulously. _So we are in agreement._

"You will need to remember," Dumbledore said with quiet intensity. "We are looking for clues as to where the horcrux is hidden, specifically in the sitting room. You will be distracted and emotionally compromised, so you must ignore your feelings. Concentrate on details. This already happened, there is nothing you can do. Do you understand?"

James and Sirius nodded mutely. With one last piercing blue gaze at each of them, Dumbledore lowered his face into the liquid. Sirius grasped James' hand in his white-knuckled one. It was something he used to do much more often when they were kids and the gesture was grounding. James squeezed back and together they submerged themselves into the memories.

James had the strange sensation that he was falling… and then he landed in a dark, high-vaulted room next to Sirius and Dumbledore. The furniture was sparse, but ornate. Rich emerald-greens and deep ebony colored the cold room. Silver decorations were on the mantle. Sirius' hand tightened and James surveyed the occupants of the room in trepidation.

" _Did you tell anyone else, Peter?"_ There was a pause. Voldemort was speaking to Pettigrew, who was quivering in fear. " _I see that you did not."_

James struggled to push away the disgust that rose in his mouth at the sight of Wormtail. He looked away. _Focus on the details, focus on the details._ He looked at the ground and immediately felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. Remus was laying at Voldemort's feet, wheezing painfully. Blood trickled from a gash on his head and stained the tattered cloak he had worn on Halloween night. His eyes were half-open.

" _I suppose I will need to be harder on your werewolf friend. A pitiful Occlumens, your friend. He will break…Crucio!"_

Sirius flinched.

" _No, please!"_ Peter cowered away.

The screams were gut-wrenching. They cut into James like physical knives. Peter's jaw dropped open, noticing Remus for the first time. Voldemort held the curse too long… James wanted to beg him to stop…

The memory changed abruptly. They were in the same room, but all the furniture and decor had been removed, except for a plain candlestick on the right side of the mantle. Remus was still screaming. James' brain was fuzzy with desperation to make it stop, he couldn't concentrate. Then abrupt silence fell and Remus lay gasping and shuddering.

" _Legilimens!"_

The room disappeared. It was like going blind. James' vision went hazy and sounds became indistinct, like hearing them from underwater. He could see vague shapes of things, hazy images of his younger self and Sirius and Peter. Lights and darks created shadowy imitations of places he knew.

" _You'll pay for that Lupin!"_ Laughter… " _Please, don't...I'll just leave, you don't have to do anything." "What on earth would we do to you? You're our friend, Remus." …_ A rush of hazy sound… " _You're leaving?" "Yes."_

" _Get out!"_ Voldemort flashed before James' eyes, but he was gone again in a wave of fog.

" _Regulus has been presumed dead. Bloody idiot. Mother's fucking heart-broken."_

Remus coughed and blood spattered the flagstones. James forced himself to focus before the room hurled away.

" _Like to believe that I've still got some humanity left."_

" _We'll always be here for you, Moony."_

" _I can hold him long enough."_

James' heart constricted at the last words forced from Remus' mind. It was the reason this had happened. Remus was protecting them. His concentration slipped again and all he could think was that Lily and Harry could have died if Remus had not come. How Remus had told him to leave and he did.

As they hurtled through the memories, they got less clear. There were other rooms, sometimes hallways, sometimes a dingy cellar. James did his best to look around, occasionally seeing Dumbledore's white face or Sirius' gray one. But the memories were deteriorating with frightening rapidity. The moments of lucidness were shorter and shorter, while the blinding fog crushed them with garbled voices. When the fog faded, the torture curse shredded any reality that might have been visible. Remus' screams were growing weaker.

James had not truly understood how severely Remus' memory was damaged until now. How were they supposed to find a hiding place in this? Even worse, James wondered how much this reflected his other memories. Were they just as bad?

More distant sounds buried in blurry shadows… Then suddenly, as if someone flipped a switch, the sitting room blasted into startling clarity. It was filled with Death Eaters, their dark shapes flickering in the firelight. Bellatrix was laughing. Sirius trembled next to James at the sound. But the respite was enough for James to pull himself together. He looked down at Remus, whose eyes were open and strangely bright. _There's nothing you can do,_ James reminded himself. He looked past Remus. His breath hitched.

A crack, barely visible, was running along the grout between the flagstones. James traced it with his gaze. It was closed around several stones, large enough to fit at least three men. If Remus had not been lying on it, James would never have noticed…

And then they were flying away from the Manor, up through the surface of the liquid memories and into the Room of Requirement. Sirius promptly released James' hand and vomited into a bucket that materialized in front of him. James barely felt the pain as blood rushed back into his fingers. He met Dumbledore's gaze.

"There's a trapdoor in the sitting room floor," he whispered, his voice barely controlled.

Then he collapsed into a chair and wept. So hard that he could not breathe.

* * *

a/n: So that was a lot to handle in one go. They have to find the journal somehow... (Besides, I planted the clues for finding the journal a long time ago in ch 8. Did not know at the time it would play out this way, but my muse lead me down this road.) I'm taking quite a few risks in the story here, so I'm interested to see what you think. Thanks for continuing to read this story!

Random thought, if you happen to be noticing grammar/spelling mistakes, please let me know. So far, I think I've caught everything while proof-reading, but you never know...


	23. In Our Failures (Remus)

Hello folks! Thank you to everyone who reviewed, whether you agree with me or not. I value every single one of your reviews, siriusly :) (Special thanks to HermioneGranger519 for catching that weird double capitalization error last chapter. It's fixed!)

Also, I apologize for the delay in updating. I meant to get this chapter posted earlier, but this week got away from me. It seems summer will be pretty busy, so I'll try to keep to my twice a week routine as best I can, but I'll be sure to warn you if it's definitely not going to work.

Anyway, happy reading!

\- Cat

* * *

Chapter 23

 _In Our Failures (Remus)_

Blue sparks jumped faintly on his fingers and died. Remus squeezed his eyes shut and leaned his head against the mattress. Breathe in deeply, breathe out slowly. He was sitting on the floor against bed, the window wide open. The cold kept his mind in his body, but the waxing moon pulled on his bones. Darkness cloaked only a sliver of the bright silvery orb. It was getting low in the western sky. Sleep was a distant dream tonight, so he would wait for the dawn to come.

"Moony?"

The voice was barely a whisper, muffled by the closed door, but Remus' sharp hearing picked it up immediately. His heart fluttered. He felt completely naked, his most private wounds laid bare. He debated feigning sleep. That would probably be the coward's way out. Pushing himself to his feet, he shook his hair out of his eyes and opened the door.

James was on the other side. In the moonlight shining from Remus' window, James looked like an old man. Behind his glasses, his eyes were rimmed with red. His face was drained. It was not white, but almost transparent. Remus could not think of anything to say. So he stepped aside and allowed James to enter his room. James shivered and his hazel eyes flitted to the open window.

"We found a trapdoor on the sitting room floor." He sounded simultaneously congested and empty.

"You found something?" Remus asked, relieved. "I thought… I thought there would be too much damage. There was a chance but…I wasn't thinking clearly at the time…"

"There was a lot of damage. But there was a moment and… a crack in the floor…" James' voice trembled and failed. The moon was slipping behind the hedges and filling the room with shadows. James turned away and looked towards the window, his shape a dark silhouette.

"You said we'd talk later," James said suddenly.

"When?" Remus asked, confused.

"When...when you came that night. You said you could hold him and that we'd talk later."

"Oh."

"Were you lying?"

Remus regarded James. It was hard to see him struggle with this. He was always so confident, always the leader, the guardian. It cost Remus something to tell the truth, knowing that it would hurt James even more. "Yes," he said in a low voice. James stiffened.

"You-you…"

"I believed that I would die." He kept his words steady and precise.

"Were you scared?"

"I-" Remus stopped to consider the unexpected question. James turned slightly to observe him from the corner of his eye. His glasses glinted. "Yes. Very scared. I thought that I would be too late."

"Why did you come?" James finally revolved to face Remus.

Remus smiled slightly, even though there was nothing remotely funny about the question. But James was not usually this dense. "'We solemnly swear that we will be bound as brothers until the end.' In the ten years since we made that promise, you have always upheld that vow to me. And now I have upheld it for you."

"But you did not owe me-"

"It has nothing to do with a trade," Remus said kindly. "I love you James. And I love Harry and Lily." Then he grew very serious. "I would do it again."

James' eyes went wide. "Remus, you…what he did…"

"I would do it again," Remus repeated, slower. There was still a part of him that was gone forever, an emptiness that he could probably never heal. But of this, he was certain.

James opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Then he crossed the distance between them and wrapped his arms firmly around Remus. Remus returned the embrace and they held it for several moments. James backed away, sniffing slightly. Then he drew his wand and gave Remus a wry look.

"Finite incantatem," he muttered, pointing at the walls. Remus bit his lip as his silencing charms were torn away. "No more suffering in silence, Moony. Bound as brothers until the end. Through thick and thin and nightmares."

"Fine," Remus sighed. He sank down onto his bed and looked at the horizon. The moon was almost gone. James sat next to him and followed his gaze.

"Full moon tomorrow night," he said softly. He rolled his wand in his hands. "Can I ask you another question?"

"Sure."

"Can the killing curse be blocked?"

"No," Remus answered immediately, uncertain of where James was going with this.

"Not at all? Or are there special circumstances that it could be?"

"It can't be blocked, Prongs. What brought this on?"

James cast him a sideways glance. "I think… I think that it can. I haven't asked Lily yet, she might know more based on her research. I didn't want to worry her."

"What makes you think it can be?"

"When the Ministry fell yesterday…I was the last through the fireplace. Voldemort cast the killing curse. I could see it coming right for me, Remus, and there wasn't enough time. I was sure that… that that was it, you know? But it sort of… bounced off."

Remus blinked. "You felt it?"

"I've got a bruise and everything," James replied, rubbing his chest absently. "It felt… strange. Like something immensely powerful had wrapped around me. And something else… it was familiar, but I can't place it."

"I've never heard of that happening," Remus said honestly. He stared at James, suddenly relieved that his friend was sitting next to him. James looked just as relieved. "I can look into it," Remus reassured him.

"Thanks," James breathed. He looked down at his hands. "I don't even know if it really happened but… thanks. And don't tell Lily. Or Sirius."

"They'd want to know."

"I know, I just want to be the one to say something. But let's make sure I'm not barmy first."

"Okay."

They sat in silence until the sky was the color of lilacs. For the first time in months, James and Sirius did not have to turn up for work early in the morning at the Ministry. Remus realized how isolated they were, locked away under the Fidelius Charm. Voldemort was slowly consuming the pieces of their lives. The fall of the Ministry did not seem real until this moment, when they had no safe place they could go except here and Hogwarts. Remus stood.

"I'll make some tea. Maybe we can spar or something in the backyard. Plan a crazy break-in to Malfoy Manor. Where is Sirius?"

James' face tensed. He glanced at the wall separating Remus' room from Sirius'.

"You should talk to him," he murmured. "I think he still blames himself, Moony. No surprises there, but still..."

"Damn," Remus muttered, scolding himself. He should have known. Sirius had many flaws, and one of them was his inability to forgive himself, to recognize his own goodness. In the long, dark months of healing himself, he had forgotten Sirius' wounds. "Do you think now…?"

James shook his head. "Let him be alone for a little longer. He might need some time."

"Okay." Regretfully, Remus passed Sirius' room on the way to the kitchen. There was no sound on the other side of the door. Perhaps Sirius had silencing charms of his own. Lily was awake and was just beginning their usual breakfast of fried eggs and tea. Her eyes searched her husband as he entered, soft and concerned. James did not say anything, but went and embraced her with a quiet desperation for her closeness. Remus settled at the table, still feeling disturbed by what James had told him. If he had died yesterday…

He shook his head and realized Lily was placing a steaming mug of earl gray in front of him. Remus smiled at her gratefully and took a sip. It was stronger than usual, but considering the long night, Remus was glad. Their breakfast was quiet, everyone lost in their own thoughts as they consumed their meal.

"I could stay home today, if you need," Lily offered softly.

James looked like he wanted to accept, but shook his head. "It would be better if you went to school. Those young people will need someone to look up to now more than ever."

Lily's lips twitched. She gathered her things and donned robes other than her housecoat. Then she kissed James goodbye.

"Bit of a role-reversal," she murmured. "Don't destroy the house while I'm gone." Then she went to the living room and floo-ed away.

"I get to wake my son up today. Bright sides to losing my job to Voldemort," James said with a grin once they finished cleaning the dishes. Upstairs, they could hear Harry calling from his crib. Remus laughed and watched James go. Then he wiped down the stove and went into the office. His list of research items would be different for today. _Can the killing curse be blocked?_

* * *

Sirius did not come out of his room until dinner, and only then because Lily had threatened to irreparably decimate his door. He ate his dinner in stiff speechlessness and refused to look Remus in the eye. Remus tried not to let this hurt him, but it was hard. Lily attempted to keep up some small talk, telling them about her day at work, but eventually she gave up. She raised her eyebrows at James, who responded with a look that said, "See what I mean?"

As soon as the plates were cleared, Sirius muttered, "Excuse me" and bolted from the table. Remus had been expecting this and jumped after him.

"Padfoot, wait!" He caught up to the other man in the hallway outside his bedroom. He wrapped a hand around his arm to stop him from disappearing. "Sirius!"

"Let me go, Remus," he whispered. His gaze focused somewhere to the left of Remus' head.

"No," Remus said fiercely. Sirius' jaw tightened and he tried to pull away. But Remus was stronger. "You brought me back, Sirius," he hissed. "You did. I don't remember much, but I do remember that. There was almost nothing left of me when you arrived. You saw what he did. I was going to end it myself if you hadn't come." Sirius jerked in his grip, but Remus continued doggedly. " _Voldemort did that._ Not you!"

He shook his head vehemently, starting hoarsely, "I-"

"Your voice, Padfoot," Remus cut him off. "Your voice kept me from killing the last part of myself. _You_ brought me back."

Finally, Sirius met his eyes. His blue irises were full of irrational guilt. And a distant star of hope. He did not say anything. After several tense seconds, Remus sighed and released him.

"I forgave you," he murmured, backing away. "But I don't think that will mean anything to you until you understand that you deserve to be forgiven."

Remus turned back to the kitchen. Behind him, Sirius' bedroom door closed with a soft click.

* * *

The next morning, Remus was awakened early by a soft tapping on his door. His dreams were confusing. Instead of the usual nightmares of Voldemort, Remus found himself in the dark, running after Sirius and calling his name. But Sirius did not seem to hear… then he saw James, staring glassy-eyed, a green light coming straight for his chest. Remus tried to yell, but his throat was stuck. So he sprinted, praying he would have enough time to push James out of the way…

And that was when he woke. The tapping started again, more insistent. Outside, it was still pitch black. The clock read 4:40 a.m. Groaning, Remus rolled out of bed and padded to the door. Sirius always chose the most inconvenient times to talk.

He opened the door, saying, "Padfoot, I'm happy to chat, but if you're planning on arguing with my well-stated points, then I suggest you wait-"

He stopped speaking abruptly, his jaw dropping in shock.

"I apologize for barging in without warning, Remus," said Albus Dumbledore softly. "But this needs to be done swiftly and quietly, before I am needed at school."

Remus just stared. Dumbledore gave him a small smile.

"You would still like to accompany me to find the next horcrux, correct?"

"I-yes. Of course," Remus stammered. "Hold on, let me…" He trailed away as he hurried to gather some clothes and his cloak. He dressed in the washroom quickly, his heart pumping. Another horcrux. When he was ready, Dumbledore was waiting in the foyer, hands clasped serenely behind his back. To someone who did not know the wizard well, he appeared relaxed. But Remus could sense the tautness in his posture, the slight deepening of the creases in his forehead.

In silence, they walked down the walkway under the stars and the setting gibbous moon. At the gate, Dumbledore held out his arm.

"I will apparate us there, Remus," he said. Remus grasped his arm as Dumbledore continued. "We must be cautious. We will be going into a town called Little Hangleton. It is a muggle town, but I suspect that Voldemort has been staying in the countryside nearby. Hopefully with just two of us, our passing will go undetected."

Remus barely had time to nod before Dumbledore swept them away with a crack. They reappeared on a dirt street in front of an iron gate choked with dead ivy in a stone wall. Remus checked up and down, but the street was empty. He shivered.

"You said Voldemort could be here?"

"Not here. _Near_ here. This is his mother's childhood home. Merope Gaunt." Dumbledore let his hand hover a centimeter from the vines of ivy, eyebrows knit.

Remus looked through the gate in astonishment. Down a straight path was a house reminiscent of the Shrieking Shack. The dilapidated roof looked ready to cave in and the windows were boarded. The place clearly had been abandoned long ago, by Voldemort's own family. It was strange to imagine Voldemort having a mother. Remus could remember the isolated child of Voldemort's memories, but no parents.

"I've been using the pensieve to examine memories of those who knew Voldemort and his family, which lead me here. And also how I came to suggest the same method for finding a horcrux in your memories." Dumbledore paused and the full force of the old wizard was focused on Remus as he said, "I apologize, my boy. No one should ever have to suffer as you did."

"It got us here, though," Remus responded weakly, staring at the packed earth under his boots.

"It was a heavy price."

Remus found he could not speak until Dumbledore's attention returned to the wall. The intensity drained from the Headmaster and he continued Voldemort's story in a distracted voice. "Merope died giving birth. His father was a muggle and his namesake; I believe he left her before the child was born. Incredibly wealthy, but not in love with her. He lived on the outside of town in a manor house with his parents. An only child."

 _He stood in a mansion, wand aimed at three people: an older couple and a young man who was handsome and haughty…_

"He killed them," Remus said numbly. Dumbledore paused in his examination of the gate to eye Remus.

"Yes, I suspect he did. You saw, then?"

"Yeah. He was… young."

Dumbledore said nothing, but the wrinkled skin around his eyes tightened. He quietly continued to examine to the gate. Finally, after several minutes of silent thought, Dumbledore backed away.

"It will open for us, but it requires a sacrifice of a sort."

"Sacrifice?" Remus repeated nervously. "How do you-?"

"Magic always leave a trace, Remus," Dumbledore explained softly. "Can you feel the magical wards on this place?"

Remus studied at the spidery vines covering the walls. His sight was distracting, so he closed his eyes. Despite his struggles with wandless magic, he was shocked by how easy it was to sense the threads of protective magic wrapping around the Gaunt shack. _It's always easier to dislocate something a second time…_ It was unlike anything he had ever done before Halloween. Remus could feel exactly where the wards locked around the gate. Beside him, Dumbledore's magic was a storm brewing across a deep blue sky. He nodded, overwhelmed by the deluge of information.

"Voldemort would want to humiliate or weaken," Dumbledore said. He looked towards the gate, his brow knit in thought. "We must reveal a truth about ourselves that is painful to admit. Rather crude, don't you think?"

"I've got plenty of those," Remus muttered, reeling his magic back. "Which one should we pick?"

"In this case, my boy, I believe mine would serve us better," Dumbledore said, looking exceedingly tired and worn. "While there are things in your life that are indeed difficult, all of them were brought about by other people wishing to hurt you or those close to you. Being a werewolf is not your fault. Neither is having your mind ravaged by a dark wizard."

"But Albus-"

Dumbledore held up a papery hand. "I am just as imperfect as any human being. I have told you before that I have made mistakes. At the risk of sounding arrogant, my abilities make my mistakes all the greater. I asked you to come with me, Remus, because I trust you. You see, the horcrux hidden here is the ring you spoke of, the one with the symbol of the Deathly Hallows. I am a weak man, Remus." Dumbledore's face twisted. "I've come here to defeat Voldemort, of course, but… but there's a part of me that is tempted all the same. I need to do this. But I'll need you to be with me."

"I don't understand." The way Dumbledore was speaking was far from the wise leader Remus was accustomed to. A mask was coming down, a mask so well-crafted that Remus could never have guessed it existed.

"You'll understand in a moment, as I am going to open this gate." Dumbledore fixed Remus with a long gaze. Remus felt like the elderly wizard's confessor, the pre-dawn darkness being their confessional. When Dumbledore next spoke, it was in a flat voice, emotions simmering underneath.

"Many people know that I defeated the dark wizard, Grindelwald. What they don't know is that we were friends before. We shared the same ambitions, the same level of magical power. The same desire for the greater good. We were obsessed with the Deathly Hallows, believing that we could harness their power over Death and use it. The obsession consumed us. Everything else faded, even family. I had a younger brother and sister. You know Aberforth. But Arianna…" His voice trembled.

"Arianna was special," Dumbledore continued hoarsely. "She was not a squib. But her control over magic was… unstable. I was dismissive towards her, though she loved me. I was so blind, Remus. And Grindelwald became ruthless in his hunt. I was going to leave my family forever, but Aberforth tried to stop me. Grindelwald was not happy. He used the Cruciatus Curse on my brother. And for once, I opened my eyes to what we had become. We dueled, the three of us. I don't even know whose side I was on. Arianna came in and tried to stop us… she got upset. None of us know what happened. Suddenly my little sister was dead. And to this day, I wonder if I was the one that cast the spell."

Dumbledore stopped and took a moment to gather himself. Remus opened his mouth, unsure of what to say, the staggering speech making him flounder for solid ground. But Dumbledore was not done speaking. Very quietly, he said, "I should have learned my lesson that night. But I've never been able to fully let go of the Stone. The cloak and the wand…I can let them go. The cloak is not rightfully mine. I respect the power and danger of the wand; the responsibility is a heavy burden to bear." Dumbledore's hand tightened on his own wand. Remus had a flicker of realization, then Dumbledore continued and Remus could not help but listen, a lump in his throat. "But… but the thought that the Resurrection Stone could be in there fills me with shame. And desire. That is my painful truth."

The gate clicked and swung inwards, creaking loudly in the tense silence. The two wizards stared at each other. Remus swallowed down… whatever he was feeling and said, "We have a horcrux to find."

He took the lead, refusing to process what Dumbledore just said. The yard was overgrown with weeds. Creeping vines were like spidery veins on the siding of the house. There was a strange heaviness in the air that became more pronounced as they got closer. It reminded him of the effect of the locket. Remus felt goosebumps raise on his arms and the hair stood up on the back of his neck.

"Magic always leave a trace," he whispered to himself. He searched with his magic, scanning for any hexes lying over the place. There were plenty, but the door felt safe. Tentatively, he placed his hand on the doorknob. Nothing happened. So he turned it and he and the Headmaster stepped inside.

The cramped rooms were weighed down by dust and cobwebs. Nothing looked remotely dangerous, but Remus was still on edge. His heart was racing. Scanning the rooms, he asked, "Do you think there are any more enchantments?"

"Perhaps," Dumbledore replied. "It would make sense that he would want to go to great lengths to protect a piece of his soul."

"How will we know where it is?"

"We will have to look. With our eyes and with our magic."

Remus bit his lip and nodded. Finding no traps around the entrance, he stepped into the first room. At first glance it seemed like it used to be a kitchen. He took one more step across the creaking floorboards. And froze.

There was someone in the room.

A man was curled in the corner next to an ancient cupboard. He was shaking violently, hugging a ragged blanket around him. He rocked back and forth. His breath rattled in his chest. Remus could not see his face, but his hair was thin and his fingers were brittle-looking.

Unnerved, Remus whispered, "Hello?"

The man did not appear to hear. He kept rocking, a low keening joining his panting inhales. It was… not right. The man was clearly unwell. Despite the pity welling in his stomach, Remus could not bring himself to step closer. He was not sure why, but he knew that he did not want to see the man's face. In fact, the idea terrified him.

Dumbledore stood unmoving behind him. Remus could sense the way he studied the man, calculating. "Remus?" he said quietly.

"Who is he?" Remus asked. He felt odd, like he should know the man somehow.

"Remus," Dumbledore said again. There was something in his voice…

Remus finally gathered his courage and moved cautiously around the man, trying to see his face… and recoiled forcefully. He was skeletal, wasted, almost unrecognizable. But there was no mistaking the scars on his face. Remus felt sick horror fill him. This had to be a nightmare. This was not real. The air was disappearing from the room and his throat felt tight. Familiar panic seized his brain. He could not think, he could not breathe…

Then Dumbledore stepped in front of him. There was a loud pop and the man was replaced by a young girl. She lay on her back, her glazed eyes staring at the ceiling.

"Riddikulus," Dumbledore murmured. Arianna disappeared.

Dumbledore turned to Remus, his face white and his blue eyes sympathetic. "It was a boggart, Remus, nothing more," he soothed.

Remus' left hand was trembling. His mind was still in shock.

"It-it changed," he explained through numb lips. He could not look away from where the insane, withering man had been. "It used to be… be the full moon. It took me by surprise."

"You survived something horrifying, Remus. It will have changed many things, but you survived." Dumbledore was quiet for a moment. "I'm guessing the horcrux is in this room. We should be careful. That won't be the only obstacle."

Remus nodded. They began searching through the cupboards and cabinets. There were more boggarts, but Remus banished them quickly, loathe to look upon his own hollow face a second time. They had almost finished when Dumbledore hummed to himself and tapped his foot against a floorboard. There was a slight echo. With a triumphant twitch of his lips, he vanished the floorboard. There, within the dark crevice, was a box made of ebony, filigreed with silver.

"Remus, if you would…I believe that it is safe."

Remus bent down and retrieved the box. He looked uncertainly at Dumbledore. Dumbledore gestured for him to open it. Carefully, Remus undid a small snake-shaped clasp and lifted the lid. Nestled in the velvet lining was the ring from Voldemort's memories. The polished stone was as dark as onyx, the triangular symbol etched into the face. Dumbledore inhaled sharply.

It was small and innocent, but Remus' instincts immediately told him not touch it. He closed the lid and slipped the box into his pocket. Dumbledore's eyes followed his movements. Instead of feeling failed by his mentor's weakness, Remus felt overwhelming empathy. They had both been stripped to their most crippling fears tonight. Remus gave him a small, sad smile.

"Thank you, Remus," Dumbledore said softly.

"It's not a problem, Albus." Remus hoped he understood that he was speaking of more than just the ring.

Something lifted in Dumbledore's expression.

When the exited the shack, the edges of the sky were pale green. Dumbledore apparated them away from Little Hangleton and back to the cottage. Remus held the gate open for him, but Dumbledore shook his head.

"I must return to my students," he said.

"Of course. Albus?"

"Yes?"

Remus paused, considering. James wanted him to be discrete. He phrased his question carefully. "Are there things more powerful than Death?"

"You know the answer to that question, Remus," Dumbledore replied cryptically.

"Enough to stop a killing curse?"

Dumbledore's expression was thoughtful. Remus had the familiar sensation of being x-rayed by the Headmaster's piercing blue eyes. Then he responded, "There is magic that we do not understand, Remus. Older, deeper forces than the Unforgivables."

"Does that-do those forces leave a trace?"

"Always." The Headmaster's face was inscrutable in the morning twilight. "Have you returned to Godric's Hollow since that night?"

"No."

"You might find some answers there. Good morning, Remus."

Dumbledore disappeared with a crack.

* * *

Remus spent the day pondering Dumbledore's confession and his mysterious answers to his question. James was desperate to know every detail of finding the horcrux with Dumbledore, so Remus did his best without revealing what the Headmaster had told him. Then, after speaking unsuccessfully with Sirius' door, Remus absconded into the office to rest and research magical forces. James kept Harry occupied, as Remus was exhausted and the full moon was tonight. Sirius stayed in his room.

When Remus looked out the bay of office windows to rest his eyes, the bare trees were lined in gold. His head was pounding. The moon was too close. Groaning, he pushed himself to his feet and stumbled to the kitchen. A kettle filled with steaming water was already on the stove, so he prepared a cup of tea with shaky hands. He did not think he could stomach anything else.

He made it three steps from the stove when he realized he needed to stop. He placed the tea on the counter and gripped the edge with white knuckles. _Bad moon._ A quick calculation later and he realized he had only slept five hours in the last three days. Sucking in a breath, he blinked hard, but the black spots in his vision stayed. There was a waterfall in his ears, blocking out any noise. He did not even realize his knees had buckled until strong hands were lowering him to the floor. Concerned blue eyes met his from the end of a dark tunnel; Sirius' mouth was moving, but Remus could not hear him over the voices in his head.

" _The Wolf strengthens him, my lord."_

" _He will break…"_

Then his vision cleared and the deafness lifted. He realized that Sirius was keeping up a steady stream of babble.

"-gonna be okay, Moony. Just a little pre-moon syndrome. Like that time in sixth year, remember? You passed out in front of the entire Great Hall at lunch because you insisted that you were fine. Never ignored us again when we said you needed to go to bed. And poor Ruby Malkin was so frightened. Few years below us, had the biggest crush on you. It was cute, but you were too stubborn to get involved with anyone, which was ridiculous because-"

"You can stop now, Pads," Remus cut him off breathily with a soft laugh. Sirius blinked, suddenly realizing that Remus was listening. "Thanks."

"No problem." He grinned weakly. "You should probably stay there for a couple minutes. Lily will be home soon and we can head to the Shack."

"Okay." Remus studied Sirius, concern breaking through his illness. "Did you think about what I said while you were locked away?"

"Yeah." Sirius settled across from him on the floor. "I might need some time, but you're always right in the end, Moony."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. Later."

"Fine. Sirius?"

"Hmm?"

"Would you come with me to Godric's Hollow later this week?"

"Why?" Sirius asked guardedly.

"I need to go," Remus said, purposely vague.

Sirius was silent for several minutes. Finally, he nodded. For Remus, it was enough. He let his eyes slide closed, the moon heavy on his limbs.

* * *

a/n: Reviews keep me inspired :)


	24. His Mortal Fragments (Sirius)

I'm back! Thank you for all of your reviews. Also, shout out to my guest reviewers as well. Whether you are agreeing with me or not, it's good to hear from you!

-Cat

* * *

Chapter 24

 _His Mortal Fragments (Sirius)_

James and Sirius practically carried Remus into the Shrieking Shack for the January moon. Remus was not very coherent, so James spent the last moments before moonrise filling Sirius in about the ring Remus and Dumbledore had found. Moody's trunk now held two pieces of Voldemort's soul. Sirius shuddered at the idea of what was lurking in the foundations of their sanctuary. Recently, his nightmares were getting worse, often ending with Voldemort rising from the cellar and killing his friends and godson in their sleep. And they were no closer to destroying the horcruxes as they were the night they broke into Grimmauld place. If they were, Remus, Lily, and Dumbledore had not said anything.

Sirius glanced at where Remus lay half-conscious on the wolf-worn couch. The memory of Remus lying at Voldemort's feet rose unbidden. " _There was almost nothing left of me when you arrived. You saw what he did. I was going to end it myself if you hadn't come."_ A shiver went up Sirius' spine. They had been through a lot in school, but nothing like this. " _You deserve to be forgiven."_ After everything, how could Remus think that? Sirius had been pondering those words almost constantly since Remus had said them, trying to understand what Remus meant.

When the moon rose, Remus' eyes opened fully and he went rigid. The transformation from man to wolf was ten times more agonizing to listen to after seeing Remus' memories in the pensieve. Sirius melted into Padfoot, but his dog-thoughts were still weighed down by guilt.

Compared to the last two moons, Moony was much more energetic tonight. He romped around the Shack with Padfoot, nipping playfully and chasing Prongs. A few times, he stopped to sniff the corners or stare out the cracks in the boarded windows. Figuring that there was a scent of humans wafting from Hogsmeade, Padfoot did his best to distract Moony from scrabbling at the walls or hurting himself. It was not until Moony returned to a particular spot in the torn living room a third time that Padfoot decided to investigate. The wolf was normally not so fixated on one thing.

Padfoot snuffled in the corner and stiffened, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. That smell was familiar. And fresh. A growl rumbled in Padfoot's throat.

He barked at Prongs, signalling to him to keep Moony occupied. Then Padfoot followed the scent. It meandered along the edges of the room up to a window. A draft carrying the smell of winter hit Padfoot's nose. Padfoot sneezed. Wormtail was gone for now.

The moon was at its zenith in the black sky, meaning the night was only halfway over. Anxiety thrumming in his veins, Padfoot realized he would have to wait until moonset. He shook his head in annoyance. Patience was not one of his virtues. The night seemed to last twice as long as usual, with Moony growing more frustrated with Padfoot's attitude and Prongs desperately trying to figure out what was wrong with his friends.

Finally, the sky started to change color. Moony howled, and then howls began human cries of pain. Sirius transformed and wrapped a blanket around Remus, who was shivering uncontrollably from exhaustion and cold. Then he met James' eyes.

"Wormtail's been here."

"What? How recent?"

"Smell is fresh. Prongs… we need to tell Dumbledore about him as soon as possible. I forgot with everything that happened last order meeting."

James sighed and agreed. Remus gave a breathy laugh from the floor. "Told you," he muttered. Then he slumped sideways, sound asleep.

* * *

 _A baby was crying. He rushed through rooms and rooms, but the cries seemed to be coming from the walls themselves. He sprinted down another corridor. There was a door at the end, slightly ajar. It spilled a line of bright white onto the floor. He burst through and tripped over something… A body. Sirius felt his blood turn into nothingness. James. His glasses were cracked. He scrambled backwards and hit something else. Softer. Lily. Her green eyes stared without seeing. Sirius shot to his feet and backed away._

 _He was in Harry's nursery. His heart was torn by his cries, but Harry was nowhere to be found. And then the cries turned into Remus, screaming, screaming._

" _Stop! Please," Sirius begged the starry ceiling. Remus kept screaming._

 _Cold, high-pitched laughter._

" _Avada Kedavra!"_

" _No!"_

 _The nursery exploded around Sirius, yet somehow the debris did not hit him. The ceiling was gone, replaced by real, distant stars. Creaking footsteps. Sirius spun._

 _A young teenager entered the room. His hair spiked like James, his eyes bright like Lily's. But on his forehead a wound stood out like crimson lightning. Harry. The walls had vanished and they were standing in a vast darkness. Voldemort was waiting. Harry turned and faced him._

" _No, Harry, run! Get out, please!"_

"Padfoot, wake up."

" _Run!"_

"Padfoot!"

A stinging pain burned across Sirius' cheek. He blinked, startled by the brightness of the gold sunlight streaming through the window.

"Did you have to hit him, James?"

"Of course I did!" James voice made it sound like the obvious solution.

"It's true, Lils, sometimes it's the only thing that works," said Remus' measured tone. Sirius shook his head, trying to rid himself of the ringing in his ears. Remus' screams still echoed like a low whine beneath the conversation.

"Whatever. Sirius, would you like some tea?" Lily appeared like a flaming apparition against the sun.

"Yes please," he said hoarsely, rubbing his cheek. She disappeared from his vision, footsteps fading. Sirius realized he was in the office, in Remus' armchair. James leaned against the windows, looking equally amused and concerned. Remus was standing in the middle of the room (not writhing in pain), a blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders. He looked like he had just been sleeping. His hair was mussed and his eyes were still puffy and purple.

And there on the floor, trying to wrap himself in the train of Remus' blanket, was baby Harry. The harsh reality of the dream was frightening, but fading. Sirius studied the boy. He was unharmed, his forehead pale and innocent.

"You okay Sirius?" James asked.

"Yeah… just a dream."

"Seemed like an intense dream."

"Okay fine, maybe it was a nightmare. You and Lily were dead and Harry was… older." Remus twitched. Sirius glanced at him. His head was tilted in thought. Sirius continued. "He was hurt, his head… and then he was going to face Voldemort and I had to stop him, but he wouldn't listen."

"His head?" James asked. His eyes wandered to Harry, who had successfully enveloped himself in blanket. Only his nose and a tuft of black hair were visible.

"There was a cut… it doesn't matter, it was just a dream."

"Like lightning," Remus murmured.

"How did you know?" Sirius asked, shocked. Remus bit his lip.

"I-I think I had a dream like that once. It was the night before Halloween. I'd forgotten."

James was starting to look more worried. "You don't think it's… prophetic or anything, do you?"

"I was rubbish at Divination, remember?" Sirius pointed out.

"Only because you never did the work," James argued. "You were quite good in class."

"Look," Remus interrupted. "It's no use worrying about it right now. We're going to defeat Voldemort and Harry won't be in anymore danger."

"Have to destroy those bloody horcruxes first," Sirius muttered, remembering his thoughts from last night. "How's our progress on that?"

"Frustratingly slow," Remus replied. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "The idea is to destroy them beyond magical repair. We haven't got a basilisk, so basilisk poison is out unless we can find some on the black market that isn't fake. Fiendfyre… possible, but highly dangerous and impossible to control. And its dark magic, something I would really like to avoid. There's also some debate on dragon-fire. Besides that…" Remus sighed, looking even more tired.

"What about the killing curse?" James suggested in a low voice. For some reason, Sirius felt like the question contained more weight than just destroying the horcruxes.

Remus shot James a look, as though he understood the underlying meaning that Sirius missed. "Killing curse is unlikely, as it only really works on living things. Horcruxes aren't living things, just containers. We could try if it comes to that… again, though, dark magic."

"I just want the bloody things out of this house as soon as possible." Lily had returned with a steaming cup of tea, which Sirius took with a smirk.

"Language, Lily. What if Harry heard you?"

She rolled her eyes. "A patronus arrived from Dumbledore while the tea was heating," she said to James. "He was responding to your note. He said he has some time right now if you wanted to meet with him. You can floo directly to his office."

"Oh, right," James said. He shifted uncomfortably. All three Marauders exchanged anxious looks. Remus' pale face was especially apprehensive.

"I suppose now is as good a time as any," Sirius mumbled. He stood, draining half of his tea and scalding his tongue. James pushed away from the windows and Remus unraveled his blanket. It fell to the floor and lay flat, except for a Harry-shaped lump in the middle. As they exited the room, they could hear Harry's muffled giggles and Lily wondering aloud, "Now where could Harry be?"

When they arrived in Dumbledore's office, he was speaking to Professor McGonagall, presumably about a student who had managed to flood the third floor corridor with pumpkin juice. The older woman nodded curtly at the three Marauders as they entered. Sirius gave her his widest grin. Despite his nervousness about what they were about to reveal, it was good to see the stern Transfiguration professor.

"Filius has cleared the corridor and the student will be reporting to me for detention for the next two weeks," McGonagall finished.

"Thank you for keeping me updated, Minerva," Dumbledore said, his face full of mild amusement. His twinkling eyes turned to the Marauders. "It seems like it's only been a few hours since she was in here informing me about your escapades."

"Must have seen a lot of each other," said James with a hint of childish satisfaction.

"Too much," McGonagall muttered. But Sirius saw the corner of her mouth twitch.

"How did the night go, Remus?" Dumbledore asked.

"It was fine," Remus replied, an edge of nerves in his voice. "Actually, that's partially why we're here…" He trailed away, seeming unable to finish. He looked helplessly at James and Sirius. James opened his mouth, but was apparently struggling with words as well. This was one of their best-kept secrets. It was odd to just unceremoniously blurt it out. Dumbledore had straightened, concern lining his brow.

"Should I leave?" McGonagall asked.

"Should she?" Sirius questioned his friends. Slowly, both shook their heads. Sirius gave McGonagall a half-smile. "You should probably hear this too. If you know, you can keep an eye out for him as well."

"For who?"

"Pete-Pettigrew," James stumbled. "Um… we think he's been staying in the Shrieking Shack. Voldemort could be using him to spy on you. In-in disguise."

"The castle wards detect concealment charms, James," Dumbledore said.

"Not this one." James took a deep breath. "Pettigrew is an unregistered animagus. Sirius and myself as well."

Sirius wondered if he should be ashamed of the pride he felt when McGonagall's jaw dropped. He decided he shouldn't. It was quite a feat. Even Dumbledore's face betrayed surprise.

"How long?" he asked.

"Since fifth year," Sirius supplied.

"Fifth year," McGonagall repeated faintly. "Why on earth…"

"It was for me," Remus murmured. He was staring guiltily at the carpet under his feet. "They found out about my condition second year and wanted to help. James and Sirius read somewhere that a werewolf is not dangerous to animals. It took them three years to figure it out, but…"

McGonagall was stunned. "There-there was a month that your three refused to speak…Remus said you had accidently done a long-term tongue-tying curse."

"Not a very pleasant taste, those Mandrake leaves," Sirius said cheerfully.

"All the things that could have gone wrong… you could have been permanently mutated!" McGonagall's nostrils flared. Two spots of pink were appearing on her cheekbones.

"Impressive magic at such a young age," Dumbledore said. He actually looked like he was on the verge of laughing. Then he sobered. "What kind of animal are we looking for?"

"A rat," James said. "Kind of fitting, actually."

"Wormtail," McGonagall breathed. Then she looked at Sirius and James in turn. "Padfoot and Prongs."

"Dog and stag," Sirius explained brightly. "Anyway, Lily's been keeping an eye out for Pettigrew, but it would be best if the two of you could as well." McGonagall opened and closed her mouth several times, but was unable to say anymore. For a precious second, it felt like they were in school all over again, going out of their way to aggravate her into speechlessness.

"I'm sorry for betraying your trust, Albus," Remus blurted suddenly. "You allowed me to attend Hogwarts under the condition that the other students were kept safe. Letting them come with me was dangerous and irresponsible and-"

"If I may interrupt, Remus," Dumbledore said gently. "I recall an unprecedented decrease in your full-moon injuries starting in your fifth year. It seems to me that you have friends who care a great deal about you. You have not disappointed me, Remus, neither have you lost my trust. As for the Marauders-" Dumbledore's eyes turned to Sirius and James. "Your secrets are yours to keep, however in light of recent events… is there anything else Minerva and I should know to protect our students?"

"We can give you a list of secret passageways in and out of the castle," James said. Sirius glanced at him sharply, but James did not continue. The Marauders' Map would remain hidden with Lily for now.

"We have probably covered them all, but it would not hurt to cross-check with the experts," Dumbledore said with a smile. James quickly began composing a list of passageways while Dumbledore continued. "It also may interest you and Sirius to know that a body was found by Mundungus in Diagon Alley last night. Although he was very malnourished, he was identified as Arwel Atkins, personal assistant to the Minister." James' head snapped up. Sirius straightened. "His hair was patched. It appears that someone had been masquerading as him under polyjuice potion for a long while. Someone talented at impersonating others and at performing the Imperius curse. Millicent Bagnold would not have been easy to control. She has a strong will."

Sirius immediately recognized the signature from hours of studying Death Eater files in his office. "Rabastan Lestrange," he hissed. "That's what he was tossed into Azkaban for in the first place. He disappeared after the November breakout. _Damn_ it. We should have known, we should have been looking-"

"Enough of that, Padfoot," Remus interrupted. His voice was brittle. "You can't blame yourself for everything."

That stung. _I can if it's my fault_. But Sirius clamped his mouth shut. McGonagall looked surprised at the mild-mannered werewolf's sharp admonition.

"Moony's right," James said softly, reading Sirius' thoughts. "We're fighting our hardest. And despite the defeat at the ministry, we still have one advantage." James' hazel eyes stared into Sirius' significantly.

 _Except we can't even destroy the damn things_.

"Another concern is Atkin's cause of death," Dumbledore said serenely, as if the strained interaction had not happened. "It was an unknown strain of dark magic. Not unlike the curse that killed the muggle in St. Mungo's, Frank Bryce. His organs were subjected to the same kind of corrosion, although over a longer period of time."

"That's sick," Sirius muttered. Silent agreement followed his statement. If he were still working as an auror, it would be at the top of his investigation right now. Frustration welled up at his lack of resources.

"We should probably get some rest. It's been a long few days," James said eventually to Dumbledore. He wrote a final item on his list of passageways and handed it to the elderly wizard. "We'll discuss the next step in the plan later."

If McGonagall was confused by James' cryptic words, she did an admirable job of showing no sign of it. The Marauders bid the two professors a weary farewell and returned to the sanctuary of the cottage through the fireplace.

When they entered the living room, Lily was waiting with Harry on the couch. _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ was open on her lap. Harry slid off the couch and wobbled over to James at once. Sirius admired his friend's ability to push exhaustion aside in favor of his son, who he scooped up and tossed in the air. Harry giggled uproariously.

"How'd it go?" Lily asked.

"Alright," James answered. He smirked slightly. "Minerva was there too."

Lily laughed. "I bet she was shocked."

"She was," Remus said, looking genuinely amused for a moment. It was the first he'd spoken since snapping at Sirius in Dumbledore's office. The softer expression did not last, and his face fell into tired lines. Sirius desperately wanted to say something to him, but before he could find the words, Remus murmured, "I'm going to bed. Goodnight everyone."

As he passed Sirius, he did not look at him, but said in a low voice, "We'll go to Godric's Hollow tomorrow morning if that's alright with you."

"Yes that's-" But Remus had already slipped into the dim hallway. Sirius gazed after him, frustrated with the new wave to guilt filling him. Distantly, he heard James tell Lily that he'd get something simple started for dinner, then his footsteps disappearing into the kitchen with Harry. Sirius expected Lily to follow, but she stayed where she was, watching him with a knowing expression.

"Whatever is going on between the two of you, it's not worth continuing, Padfoot," she said bluntly.

"Didn't Prongs tell you?" he asked, annoyed. Lily and James were like a single entity. If one person knew something, the other inevitably knew as well.

"He did. But I want you to say it." She stepped into his line of sight, breaking his determined staring contest with the hallway. Her mouth was set in a stubborn line. Sirius used to pride himself in his ability to win an argument, but lately he'd been losing most. And with Lily, it was usually pointless to try.

This did not stop him from asking a feeble, "Why?"

"I want you to hear how stupid it sounds."

"Hey!" he objected. She glared. He glared back. Several minutes passed in which Sirius felt like he was being roasted in a emerald flame. Surprisingly, however, Lily broke first.

"Fine, do you want me to start?" That was exactly the opposite of what Sirius wanted, but she cut across his protest. "Sometimes I worry so much about Harry that I feel guilty for not constantly fighting this war, without sleep or rest or thinking about anyone else. Sometimes I wonder if I did the right thing by accepting the Hogwarts job, because what if there's something more important that I should be doing?"

"Whoa, Lils-"

"I get irrationally angry at the three of you because you're constantly putting yourselves in danger," she ranted on, eyes flashing but keeping her voice low. "And then I get angry at myself for being selfish and wanting you to stop fighting this war. And sometimes…" She stopped and bit her lip. Sirius suddenly had the impression that she was comfortable with all of those insecurities until this next one. "Sometimes I think it's my fault that Snape became a Death Eater."

She exhaled slowly, as if saying it was a relief. Sirius glanced to the kitchen. "Does James know all of this?"

"Everything," she answered with a small smile.

"Then I'm sure he said this," Sirius said. "But Snape was going down that road no matter what you did."

"Maybe he was," she agreed softly. "But that doesn't stop me from wondering… what if I had just… opened my eyes sooner. Or… let him down in a kinder way…"

"There was nothing you could have done, Lils. Everyone makes their own choices in the end," he shrugged. "This probably isn't news to you, but I still don't think he's on our side."

"Perhaps," Lily answered. "Besides, I can't go back and change anything. But maybe I can give him the benefit of the doubt now."

Sirius caught the indirect reprimand. He decided he did not want to go down this road today. He and Lily would never agree when it came to Severus Snape. "You are helping, you know," he reassured instead. "You're helping us with the horcruxes, taking care of Harry. Hell, taking care of us. I don't think Remus would be… well. It was mostly you in November."

"Yeah," Lily said in a quiet voice. "I'm just getting frustrated with not finding anything in the Room of Requirement. And my research on the Founders is going nowhere. There seems to be a barricade everywhere I turn."

Sirius did not know what to say. But Lily did not seem to mind, which reminded Sirius that she was in control of the conversation. She just waited, watching Sirius expectanly. Finally, he cracked.

"I still blame myself for what happened to Remus," he said in a rush. "I convinced myself that he was the traitor and because of that I forced you and James to choose Peter as the Secret Keeper. If it weren't for me, you would not have been in danger and Remus wouldn't have been caught."

And yes, when he said it to Lily instead of his bedroom wall, it did sound ridiculous. The sequence of events had too many variables, too many things that would have fallen into place even without the help of Sirius' apparent mistakes.

Lily was still silent, allowing him to muddle through his confused thoughts.

"I know that Voldemort is to blame for most of it," he admitted. "But it doesn't change the fact that I doubted Remus. I judge people's actions without knowing their motivation." His thoughts turned to Regulus now, too. In the two and a half years since his brother's death, he believed him to be a coward. And now he found that he was wrong, once again.

He realized Lily still had not spoken and glanced at her. To his surprise and irritation, she appeared to be holding back a smile.

"What?"

"So do I," she answered.

"No you don't."

"Have you actually forgotten my initial opinion of you and James?"

"That's different. We were idiots back then, you weren't wrong."

"You grew up sixth year. And it still took me the whole year to figure that out, to let go of old hurts." She sighed, the amusement slipping away. "I'm not trying to belittle your struggle, Sirius. I'm just trying to help you understand that you're only going to end up alienating your friends if you let this take over. You can't change the past, but you can learn from it."

Sirius thought back to the terrible night that Remus had been taken. He had never been so close to despair as he had come that night. The only thing that had saved him had been Lily's immediate forgiveness. Given, he now understood, after a lesson learned long ago at Hogwarts.

"Remus says I need to forgive myself," he muttered. He could feel something unclenching inside. It ached. "I don't… I don't think I've ever done that before."

"Then it might take some time."

Her hand clasped his shoulder gently.

"Thank you, Lily," Sirius said, sincerity seeping through. Thinking the conversation was over, he stepped towards the kitchen, where he could hear James bustling around.

"Sirius," Lily's voice called after him. He paused and looked back at her. She was watching him with empathy. "You aren't defined by your worst moments."

Then she led the way into the kitchen. James was buckling Harry into his highchair. It smelled like pasta, one of the few meals James had mastered. His friend examined him with scrutinizing hazel eyes as he walked in.

"Your wife is a smart woman," Sirius said. Lily winked at James as she went to scoop pasta onto plates.

"About time you realized it," James teased. "Can't imagine where I'd be without her."

Sirius did not say it, but inwardly he thought to himself, _I would end up alone._

* * *

In the deep stillness of early morning, a thin fog settled over Founders Lane. Luminous balls of orange haze enveloped the street lamps. Even though Sirius could barely see the shadowy outline of the Potter home, he felt a horrible sense of deja-vu. He could almost smell the sulpher. Instead of the orange lamp-glow, he imagined the ghastly green of the Dark Mark. A bitter taste covered the back of his tongue.

"Are you going to explain why you needed to come here?" he whispered. His misty breath joined the fog.

Remus did not answer. He walked steadily along the fence to the gate. Trancelike, he pulled the gate open. Sirius followed him onto the path. The concealment enchantments fell away, revealing the gaping mouth rimmed in burned brick and siding. Remus did not even falter as he entered the darkness. He seemed to almost be listening for something.

Sirius could not help noticing that the debris had been cleared. James and Lily's possessions had been removed, but tags marked their place, the investigation on a permanent hiatus. After the fall of the Ministry, the house was still standing, an empty witness to an event Sirius wished he could forget. But guilt makes forgetting impossible. An invisible force dragged his eyes to the spot on the floor. The blood was gone.

When he could not stand the silence any longer, Sirius said, "They cleared everything away."

"Not everything," Remus murmured. Sirius glanced at him. His eyes were closed, his brow drawn quizzically. "Magic always leaves a trace."

Sirius remembered the charged quality of the air that night. Spells had burned past the molecules of atmosphere, excited them. There was always a particular sensation in the aftermath of a magical battle. But Remus knew this. That could not be what he was talking about.

"Remus?"

"Dumbledore said to come here, but I don't understand why," Remus explained. "We were talking about magic. Older, more powerful than even…" He trailed away. Sighing deeply, he turned towards the destroyed entrance. "I don't understand," he said quietly.

"Dumbledore's always been a bit… batty," Sirius said bracingly. He thought back to the night he rushed here, the night that he was too late. There was something different, a feeling. Until the war with Voldemort, Sirius had never thought much about souls. But constant flirtation with death forced him into wondering. If Sirius was being completely, frighteningly honest with himself, he would say that he felt something in his soul that night.

"Do you think loving other people is a form of insanity?" Remus asked suddenly.

"Um… what?"

"Something James said… he was asking me why I came. My actions that night were… illogical. I thought I would die. But I was so desperate to get them out, it did not really bother me. I'm just saying, love is mental."

" _I forgive you. But I don't think that will mean anything to you until you understand that you deserve to be forgiven."_

His conversation with Lily had shifted his perspective, yet Sirius was still certain that no one truly deserved to be forgiven for whatever sins they'd committed. But perhaps in his brother's mind, he did. Which was crazy. "And powerful," Sirius said softly, remember Dumbledore's words in the hospital wing.

Remus went very quiet.

"You said magic always leaves a trace."

Remus nodded, amber eyes distant.

"There was a trace of something more powerful than Voldemort when I came here that night. I felt it. Maybe that's what Dumbledore wanted you to find."

"Yeah, maybe…"

But before Sirius could say another word, three cracks echoed from the street. The two Marauders froze. _Damn it._ They must have tripped some undetectable alert placed on the house.

Sirius stepped lightly to the left so he could see out the window. A trio of figures in black were sweeping through the mist towards the Potter house. Sirius turned experimentally. The apparition wards were still up. _Oh come on…_ Since he was not the caster, it would take too long to neutralize them. Auror instincts and adrenaline kicked in. His thoughts sped up to the point that everything else slowed to half its regular pace. _Priority one: hide Remus._ Voldemort could not know he was sane yet.

Sirius returned swiftly to Remus' side and rapped his wand sharply on his head.

"Ow," Remus whispered, sounding strangely calm. The disillusionment charm trickled like paint down Remus' head and onto his body, turning him into a human chameleon.

"Shhh," Sirius hushed him, pulling him back from the foyer. Outside, loud footsteps pounded up the walk. The Death Eaters were clearly not trying to by stealthy. He had not been there when Remus showed up Halloween night, but every horrible image his guilt-ridden mind had fabricated was flashing in front of his eyes. He could not even imagine what Remus was feeling underneath the strange, unruffled facade.

The door burst open before Sirius could think any further.

"Stupefy!" Sirius shouted. Caught by surprise, the first Death Eater dropped. The next two were much more cautious. There was a brush of fabric against his cloak and he lost track of Remus in the heat of the duel. That is, until a green killing curse flew past Sirius, so close that he could feel Death whistle brightly in his ear.

Quite suddenly, his vision was filled with violent blue flames. The heat of them was intense enough to tighten the skin on Sirius' face and smolder the ends of his hair. Twin shrieks came from the remaining pair of Death Eaters, who tumbled back from the front entrance and into the yard.

"Time to go," Remus' voice whispered in his ear. They sprinted out the back door and through the hole in the fence blasted by James. Once Sirius heard the crack of Remus disapparating, he spun and disappeared in a whirl of smoking fabric.

When he arrived by the cottage's front gate, Remus had already removed the disillusionment charm. In the young light of dawn, his hair gleamed silver.

"Merlin's beard, was that fire you?" Sirius asked, nearly laughing in relief at their near escape. "I thought you could only do a small flame, that fireball was amazing!"

Remus didn't respond.

"Moony?"

Euphoria drained from his blood, and his veins clotted with fear. Remus' left hand was trembling and his breath was coming in short gasps. He swayed and Sirius was at his side in an instant. His mind raced as he lowered Remus to the grass so he could lean against the fence. Had he been hit with something? He hadn't seen…

"You need to breathe, Moony," Sirius murmured. "Are you hurt?"

Remus shook his head jerkily, his gray hair shivering across his bloodless face. Okay, not hurt. But he was aware of Sirius, so he was not stuck in a flashback either. The moon was waning… Panic-attack then.

"Look at me, Moony." When Remus did not immediately respond, Sirius repeated himself, stronger. "Look at me."

Wide brown eyes met his.

"Good. Now watch me breathe. In and out, very slowly. Come on, breathe with me, mate. In. Out." Remus' hyperventilation slowed by increments. "Keep going. We're at the cottage, see? And the sun is rising."

Soon Remus was breathing normally again. He swallowed several times and blinked. Then, hoarsely, he murmured, "Thanks."

"No problem," Sirius answered, his nerves still on edge. He settled down in the grass and watched how the sun caught the hard frost. "That happen before?"

"Not for a while," Remus breathed. His breath was white in the cold air. "In the hospital wing a few times. Once, when it was just me and Lily, back in November. I thought… I thought they were over. How did you know what to do?"

Sirius hesitated, but replied anyway. "I, er, had a few. Once. Back in the summer before sixth year. James would do that, make me breathe with him. Bring me back to the present. I made him swear not to tell."

Remus did not pry any further and Sirius was glad he didn't. He just sat, shivering with his eyes closed. Sirius gave him some time to banish whatever ghosts were haunting him before speaking again.

"I think I'm starting to understand what you mean about forgiving myself," Sirius began after several minutes. "I think… I think I used to believe I would have this feeling, you know, when the time came. But it's a choice, really, not a feeling. I hope it makes the pain easier one day."

"It will," Remus said softly. And no, there was no release. Sirius would never forget those months of doubt. But maybe one day he would feel a little lighter.

They did not speak again, but waited for the sun to fully break through the icy trees. Remus leaned his head against the fence, buried in his thoughts.

And Sirius worried.

It was becoming an intimately familiary feeling. He was always worried about Remus. And James. And Lily and Harry. He worried about the future. His nightmares were making things worse. In the last few days shut up in his room, his wallowing had morphed into maddened planning to get rid of Voldemort.

But he would always get stuck on the horcruxes. Dragons and basilisks. Dark magic. Magic that drew its power from humanity's flaws and more ugly desires. He cringed at the thought of Remus having to use dark magic after fighting so hard to prove to himself he was good. James had a family. After his talk of broken souls in December… it would be a horrible thing to face. Lily… Lily was fierce. Sirius had grown to admire her strength and determination. She would do anything to protect James and Harry, even dark magic. But Sirius did not want her to have to choose it. And abruptly, the solution came.

Sirius smiled crookedly to himself from where he sat in the frosted grass. He would need to pay a visit to the Restricted Section soon. Perhaps Remus was right. Perhaps love was insane.

* * *

a/n: Thanks for reading!


	25. When We've Been There (Remus)

Thank you for all of your lovely reviews! They're always helpful and motivating! And now for the next installment. (Also, over 100,000 words! Whoohoo!) I'm doing something unusual this time and going back to Remus POV a little early for the sake of the narrative. Enjoy!

\- Cat

* * *

Chapter 25

 _When We've Been There (Remus)_

"Muggle-borns are being rounded up as we speak. The ones that have managed to escape are on the run, trying to make it to Hogsmeade. But the ones that are caught… they're sent straight to Azkaban. We've managed to smuggle one or two out, but…" Arthur Weasley looked exhausted. His red hair seemed to have thinned since Remus last saw him a week before. Molly sat beside him, holding tiny Ginny tight to her chest, purple bags under her eyes.

A somber silence followed Arthur's report, the last from the group at the ministry. No one had seen Voldemort in the government facility, but a steady presence of Death Eaters and supporters of the dark arts kept the leftover ministry workers in line.

The news never changed. Muggle-baiting and killings had increased. Dementors swarmed the countryside, looking for prey. And Voldemort had set his eyes on Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, the only places still standing against him. Remus scanned the round table. The witches and wizards there were drained and overworked. And struggling to hold onto any hope. They spoke almost exclusively of defensive measures such as evacuating muggles, erecting stronger wards, and anticipating attacks. Still fighting. But to Remus, it sounded a lot like defeat.

That same feeling wriggled into his gut like a leech. It was a feeling Remus had been fighting since his panic attack the day before. The surge of power manifested as blue flame had been a moment, spurred by fear for Sirius after seeing the killing curse fly past his ear. But the spells exploding in the Potters' foyer had drowned him. Now he was back to barely a spark.

His nightmares were suddenly as intense as in November. He was woken by Sirius at least twice in the night, shaken from the torture curse to find himself twisted into sweaty sheets. _Stupid, stupid_. He had just started to believe he was getting better, but now he wondered if he was getting worse.

What if his mind was on a time delay, ready to explode into smithereens at any second?

He shuddered and glanced up at the people that would be caught in the cross-fire. He realized the meeting was over.

The order members trickled away, murmuring in low voices. The loudest sound was the steady opening and closing of the door to the Room of Requirement. Remus moved his gaze to James, who was watching everyone leave with a tight expression. A natural leader, James would want to reassure everyone, bolster them up with courage and hope. But he waited in silence, jaw clenched. And in Remus' chest, the secret of destroying the horcruxes was suddenly difficult to keep inside. He exchanged a glance with Lily. She was holding Harry in her lap and clearly struggling with the same thing.

The room cleared, a few members looking back at the Marauders curiously. They could not fail to notice their covert meetings with Dumbledore. But eventually the room was emptied without any questions. As soon as the last person closed the door, Sirius spoke.

"We only have two horcruxes. This is dragging on too long, we need to act faster."

"If I knew what to look for, it would be a lot easier," Lily sighed. She and Remus had spent hours researching and speculating, but it was difficult. Gryffindor was known to possess a goblin-made sword, but it could only be found by a worthy member of his own house. Remus seriously doubted that Voldemort would be counted as worthy. The only other known possession of the Founders was the diadem of Ravenclaw. Which had been lost centuries ago. Hufflepuff was not prone to airing her wealth. Accounts of her property only spoke of her desire to share it with the less fortunate.

"But we know of where one more is!" Sirius insisted. "We should find a way into Malfoy Manor soon before-"

"Do not act with haste, Sirius," Dumbledore warned, his eyes looking sternly over his half-moon glasses. "If Voldemort discovers our hunt too early, he will do everything in his power to stop us. We don't even know where to search for the others. Or even if he made others. One rash move could mean the death of this quest, or indeed the death of us all."

Sirius' jaw snapped shut, looking chagrined. But Remus did not miss a glint in his eye.

They spent the next hour talking through ways of entering the Malfoy Manor. Tweaking and adjusting potential problems with a fine-tooth comb, they finally had something that might work. The hardest part would be the wards, which they would only understand when they got a look at them. If James and Sirius were apprehensive about this, they made no sign. Remus remained mostly quiet, aware that the rest of them had planned a break-in to Malfoy Manor before. Occasionally, he would give advise about breaking certain curses, but otherwise, he listened. And grew restless. His recent panic attack had made one thing very clear to him. He had not moved on. He needed to find a way to let go and move forward.

"Then it's settled," Dumbledore concluded. "Two days from now, you will go to Malfoy Manor. Good luck."

They left the Room of Requirement. Dumbledore gave them a nod goodbye and they started down to Lily's office, where they would floo home. But as they past the main floor, Sirius stopped them.

"I need to go to the Library," he whispered, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "I'll meet you at home."

"The Library?" James repeated, incredulity coloring his voice.

"I need a book," Sirius replied defensively.

"A… _book_?"

Sirius winked, a ghost of his old carefree spirit passing across the drawn face.

"You're going to steal it? What for?" Lily demanded.

" _Borrow_. Steal is such a strong word, Lily. And when I figure it out, I'll tell you."

Sirius gave them a enigmatic grin and disappeared in the direction of the Library. Remus was sorely tempted to follow and discover what Sirius was up to. But the suggestion he was about to make was one that was better done without Sirius. He waited for their friend's footsteps to fade away, then turned to James.

"I'm going with you to Malfoy Manor," he whispered.

"What?" James hissed. Lily adjusted Harry on her hip, her eyebrows drawn in concern.

"I'm coming."

"Moony-it's-you can't. If we get caught-"

"Don't try and stop me, James," Remus threatened lowly. Then he sighed, pushing back the familiar void that was weighing on his mind. "I need to do this."

James crossed his arms and studied him. "You'll be okay going back?"

"Part of me never left," Remus murmured.

James exhaled slowly, ruffled his hair, and glanced at Lily. "Okay."

"Don't tell Padfoot until the last minute. He'll argue. I scared the hell out of him the other night."

"He'll be angry," James replied, looking hesitant. At Remus' glare, James relented. "Okay."

"Oh day," repeated Harry with a grin. James smiled faintly. A scuffling around the corner and a pair of footsteps signaled the approach of prefects on patrol.

"Come on," Lily said, quietly leading them down the stairwell.

* * *

"What?!"

"Padfoot-"

"Damn it, Moony, are you trying to get yourself killed?!"

"No, I'm trying to get some closure. Besides, when I went with Dumbledore-"

"With _Dumbledore_!"

"-I was fine. If you think it's such a suicide mission, why are the two of you going?"

"We aren't on the top of the bleeding kill-on-sight list!"

"You're still pretty high on that list, you know."

"That does not-"

"Padfoot!" James shouted. Sirius faltered, his blue eyes flashing to James. James glanced at Remus. "We're wasting time. Just let him come."

Sirius wavered. They were standing in the dark front yard, amber light spilling across the lawn. Lily watched from the open door, red hair in a fiery bun on the top of her head, ready to step in if Sirius balked any further. Remus waited, glad for her support. Lately, she was the best candidate for talking sense into Sirius. He could see a vein throbbing in the man's temple as he deliberated.

"Fine," Sirius grit out finally. Lily's lips twitched. He glared at Remus fiercely. "Don't wander off."

Remus would have laughed if they were not about to break into the scene of his nightmares. His left hand had not stopped trembling all day. _Maybe Padfoot is right. You shouldn't be doing this. What if you break down again?_ But he had to do this. Had Sirius demanded a full explanation, Remus would have been unable to give one. A warm hand grabbed his cold, trembling one.

"You _can_ do this, Moony," murmured Sirius. When Sirius Black decided something, he would be all in.

Too soon, they were standing in the heather-covered wilderness, on the edge of a thick forest of evergreen trees. Against the hard stars, they reared like obsidian daggers. Quashing a thrill of fear, Remus tried to imagine they were doing something else. They were sneaking into the Forbidden Forest on a foolhardy, but innocent mission to cause mischief. They marched in silence. It was at least half an hour before a great wall of stone loomed in front of them. The back of the property.

Tendrils of growing vines wended their way through the tiny cracks in the wall. Their wintry remnants reminded Remus suddenly of the Gaunt shack.

 _All magic leaves traces._

Remus loosened his consciousness, biting back any discomfort. He could sense the layers of curses and charms woven into the solid rocks. The wards were like an impenetrable cloth blanketing the wall. It was clear what they needed to do. The trick would be to slowly unravel and fold them upwards to create a hole large enough for a man to crawl through.

 _All magic leaves traces._ Remus was starting to understand what Dumbledore was talking about. Actions, choices, love, hate. They left an imprint on the fabric of space and time, on the soul. He felt it in Godric's Hollow, in the decision he made there. But he shook that memory away for now.

"I can do this part," Remus murmured. He had intimate knowledge of unraveling thoughts and placing them back together. These wards were the product of thought, Malfoy's thought to be specific.

"You sure?" James asked.

"Lucius is arrogant and predictable. And I… understand the wards. I can do it."

In the dark, Remus could not see his face, but he could sense his muscles relaxing before the answer came. "Okay."

Remus knelt down at the base of the wall, careful to stay outside the halo of spells. James and Sirius took up positions like sentinels on either side of him, wands drawn. Remus drew his own wand and closed his eyes. His mental walls were solid barricades that he was reluctant to move, so he reached around them.

At once, he could feel the conscious men on either side of him, one a smoldering silver coal ready to spark, the other steady sunlight on a day with few clouds. It was a euphoric feeling, to recognize his oldest friends by their magic.

Bolstered, he aimed the wand directly at the pulsing tapestry of energy and focused. Like he was disarming a bomb, he gently probed at different threads of spells until he decided to start with the caterwauling charms. This way he would not accidentally jostle them while doing the rest.

Soon he was gentling pulling aside multiple hexes and working them back from the wall. The wards were elegantly done. It would be foolish to underestimate Lucius, but the man's appreciation of aesthetic was his downfall tonight. By the time he finished, Remus' knees were numb and aching. He drew back into himself and stood, wincing at the pops that crackled up his spine. He felt momentarily light-headed from breathing so shallowly for an extended period of time.

"Are they done?" Sirius whispered.

"Yeah." Remus waved his wand and vanished the stones at the bottom of the wall, praying that he was not miscalculating the integrity of the surrounding supports. They held. "Just… try not to go outside the radius of that hole."

"Noted," James said wryly. He crouched down and peered at the hole. "I'll go first."

He lay on his belly and started to pull himself through the opening. When he was all the way through, they heard him stand and clean off the dirt with magic. Then James' voice swore and hissed, "Silencio!"

"James?" Sirius whispered.

"Bloody peacocks," said James' voice. "All clear, come on through."

Remus went next and stood next to James. An albino peacock on a clipped hedge was opening and closing its beak. Its throat convulsed, but not a sound emitted. Remus' lip twitched. Then he scanned their surroundings. A labyrinthine garden of symmetrical hedges and roses stretched away towards the Manor. The hedges were cut with severe right angles and the roses were pruned to stumps. Against the dark plants, the peacock was like a phantom. Remus checked the windows, but no lights were on in the house.

Finally, Sirius joined them. He transformed into Padfoot and wagged his tail. James removed the invisibility cloak from his pocket.

"Watch out for more hexes, Padfoot," he warned the black dog. Padfoot sneezed and took off like a dark wraith. James threw the cloak over himself and Remus and they followed. The cloak was not enough to cover two grown men, but at least their disembodied feet would be less noticeable.

The closer they got to the hulking silhouette against the stars, the more separate Remus felt from his body, as if he were watching himself go through the motions. Everything was hauntingly familiar, but blurred like a gothic impressionistic painting. The pattern of the windows of the back rooms, the smell of decaying roses, the ghostly taste of blood in his mouth.

They reached a back entrance, a service door that was on the blueprints from Mundungus. Sirius became human again and pulled his pocket knife from his cloak. The silver blade flashed open and he inserted it into the lock. The lock clicked the the door swung noiselessly inward. They were in.

The sitting room was easy to find. It was not easy to enter. Remus found that he could not will his feet across the threshold. The furniture was back and a carpet rolled over the cold, stone floor. But in Remus' imagination, the high-backed chairs became Death Eaters. Unbidden memories rose from where he had locked them away… _He slammed into the hard stone floor where he was thrown. Voldemort's robes swept lazily into his vision-_ A hand brushed his arm and Remus flinched.

"Sorry," James apologized quickly.

"You're fine," Remus assured him through numb lips. "Let's get this over with."

As quietly as they could, they put muffliato charms on the entrances, then levitated the furniture from the rug, marking where each piece had been. The rug rolled back with ease, revealing the pencil-thin crack in the floor. _The cold floor was hard against his cheek, a crack running darkly from his face-_ Shuffling feet around him. Sirius ran his fingers along the crack, muttering to himself, while James looked around the room. His eyes landed on the mantle.

"The candlestick," he whispered.

"Huh?" breathed Sirius.

"They removed everything but the candlestick," James said. He hurried forward and pulled down on the stick. The stones within the crack's boundaries melted away, revealing a staircase that went straight down. To Remus, it looked like a grave. He shook his head hard. _Concentrate, Remus. We're looking for a horcrux._

He led the way. As they descended, they wordlessly lit their wand tips. The stairs brought them to an underground chamber. The low ceilings were vaulted and it smelled musty. Remus tried not to think of the cellar he was kept in on his last visit and scanned the items. All of them appeared to be artifacts infused with dark magic, clearly banned or Malfoy would have them on display.

"Charming," Sirius muttered, squinting at a dusty mirror framed by spitting snakes. "Reminds me of home."

"We're looking for something placed here relatively recently," Remus said hoarsely. "Something that is not covered in dust or cobwebs."

"Right."

It took shorter than Remus expected. James and Sirius would beckon him over to look at newer items. Remus easily eliminated most and continued his own search. Then he saw it. It was laying in the center of an elmwood pedestal. Barely breathing, Remus brushed the leather binding with his fingertips. The journal.

"I have it," he whispered. Malfoy clearly did not realize its importance to the Dark Lord, otherwise there would undoubtedly be protective enchantments around it. But he lifted easily and slid it into his robe pocket. It landed lightly, as if it were not carrying a piece of Voldemort's soul.

"Let's get out of here," murmured Sirius from somewhere to his right.

"Wait." Remus could barely get the word out. He had one more thing he needed to do. Then, from his other pocket he drew something else, something small-

" _Mummy, please!" he sobbed. "Let me out! I don't want to!"... "Monster." The pale boy was reflected in a mirror, body marred by silvery scars. His mother entered. "Oh, Remus…"_

It was spiralled and the purest white. A seashell. Remus stood perfectly still, his eyes closed. He held the shell in his left hand, which was steady. The void of forgetting was soft beneath his thoughts. Change was so much like death. He'd changed since Halloween, that much was certain. But in his struggle, he'd been unable to find a way to accept it. Very cautiously, he let his oldest memories surface…

" _I don't want to be here, mum. I'm afraid."_

The first time he died, he was four years old. He barely remembered the boy he was before. He was almost too young to understand what had happened to him. But his mother tried her best…

" _I know, sweetheart. You won't understand this for a long time." She took him by the hand and led him up the stairs of their old house. It had remained empty since they moved. When they reached his bedroom, he started shaking. But his mother held him close and they went inside. The room was hollow. Only slight discoloration showed where his bed had been. The window where the wolf entered was never repaired. Warm summer air blew apart ghostly curtains._

" _Why are we here, mum?"_

" _Well," she breathed with a watery smile. "We're here to say good-bye to the old us. Because it's time to start over. Is that okay?"_

" _I guess. What should we do?"_

 _She placed a seashell in his hand. He held it to his ear and listened to the ocean. Mother had always said that seashells carried the voice of the ocean, no matter where you went._ _Seashells held long memories._

" _We'll leave a parting gift. To let the old us know that we'll always remember."_

 _Remus placed the seashell on the ground. And very softly, he said, "Good-bye. I'll miss you."_

He had died a second time in this place. Very gently, he placed the white seashell on the pedestal. A flower on his grave. With luck, it would not be found until Voldemort was dead and gone.

"Good-bye," he whispered, too soft to reach the ears of the living. Sirius and James said nothing.

They worked quickly, closing the passageway and replacing the furniture exactly as it was. Sirius took down the muffliato spell. They left the way they came. Not a sound came from the upper floors. It was crazy, to know that a one-year-old boy slept in this godforsaken house every night. The garden was peacefully still. James and Remus waited while Sirius locked the side door behind them. When Sirius finished, he let out a breathy bark of laughter.

"We did it."

"Not yet."

The color was slowing draining from James' face. His hazel eyes were almost silver in the half-moonlight. Remus followed his gaze. The garden was no longer still. It was rippling weirdly in multiple places, like he was seeing it through a rainy window.

"When Pettigrew told me you were going to break into my home, Potter, I thought he surely must have heard incorrectly," said an oily voice. It was like watching a painting of Lucius Malfoy dripping onto the garden backdrop as the disillusionment charm disappeared. "Surely," he drawled. "You could not be that stupid."

Sirius swore behind Remus.

Remus wondered if it was possible for lungs to spontaneously turn into lead. More Death Eaters were appearing, five, ten, twenty. He was not getting enough oxygen. His vision was going dark, like double doors were closing over his eyes. Then Sirius spoke again.

"I guess we are that stupid."

His voice was even, perfectly confident. And coming from in front of Remus. His vision was not going dark. It was obscured by the backs of his two best friends. His breathing was fine. His heart was racing, but his mind was nearly tranquilly calm.

"Guys…" he murmured. They ignored him.

"Of course I counseled Pettigrew not to tell the Dark Lord right away. The snivelling rat is not very reliable. It is foolish to trouble our Master with false counsel. But, once I found he was telling the truth…" Malfoy was rolling up his left sleeve. The skull and snake tattoo on his arm was ink black and coiling. "He's on his way."

Sirius and James said nothing.

"Padfoot… Prongs… you don't need to-"

"While we're waiting, I thought we could chat. Why exactly did you feel the need to come here? Don't tell me-are you still upset about the court's decision in November? Aren't petty vendettas beneath Gryffindor's like yourselves? But then I guess that's what Gryffindor is all about…"

"We aren't in school anymore, Malfoy," James said. His voice was firm, strong. He stared down the Death Eaters. They were sorely outnumbered. Malfoy sneered disdainfully. His gray eyes surveyed James and Sirius, then gazed behind them. They narrowed.

"And I see you brought your werewolf. How... curious. Pettigrew said he may be here, but I found that rather doubtful. Isn't he supposed to be insane?"

"My mind is perfectly sound, Malfoy," Remus replied evenly. James' head flicked in his direction, glasses flashing. In a whisper, Remus said, "We need to get out of here before Voldemort shows up. "

"No one is leaving." Malfoy's command cut through the cold air. The Death Eaters' ranks tightened. Through the gaps between cloaked figures, Remus could see the hole in the base of the wall. Remus' brain was racing through plans. They could not fight off twenty Death Eaters. It would be suicide. So why not go back?

"The Dark Lord will be very pleased to see you Lupin…" Malfoy was saying. Remus tuned him out.

"Knife," he whispered. Sirius' arm drifted backwards and Remus plucked the pocket knife from his palm. He felt behind him, fingers brushing over the wooden door and finally landing on the cool metal of the handle and lock. Inserting the knife into the lock, he jiggled it until his ears detected a click. He turned the knob delicately.

"...His plans for you may change once he learns that you are, regrettably, able to string together a coherent sentence-"

"Now!" Remus hissed. He pushed the door inwards.

"Protego!" roared James and Sirius together. Translucent shields exploded between them and the Death Eaters. The Marauders leapt inside and slammed the door on the wave of spells hurtling towards the shields.

"Colloportus! Front door!"

They dashed through the house, feet echoing eerily on the stone floors. Remus could hear rumbling from the direction they came, and Malfoy's yells. The journal bumped against his leg as the skidded to a stop in the foyer. James grabbed the double doors and threw them wide. Icy air raced down a long corridor of tall hedges and rushed inside. A huge, wrought-iron gate blocked off the exit from the wide path. It looked like coiling snakes and Remus could sense the protective enchantments throbbing around it.

They sprinted forwards. Remus reached out with his mind and aimed his wand at the gate. The enchantments were thicker here, but the pattern was similar to the wall. But a pitch-black cloud suddenly opened in their path like a fissure. They stumbled to a halt. Remus' concentration sputtered and died. His heart pounded in his ears.

The smoke solidified into Lord Voldemort. His red eyes found Remus immediately and held him there, paralyzed. Voldemort's snake-like face registered shock, which was rapidly transforming into fury. There was a moment of utter stillness.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Remus and Sirius dove to one side, James to the other. The toxic green spell crackled like lightning as it passed.

"Impedimenta!" yelled Sirius. Voldemort's wand snapped up and blocked his spell. Another green killing curse rocketed towards them. Remus rolled out of the way, then popped up and threw a nonverbal sectumsempra. At the same time, James shouted, "Reducto!"

With a snarl, Voldemort leapt out of the way of Remus' bladed curse and blocked James'. The spell bounced into the paved ground and exploded, hurling up dirt and stone. Remus lost sight of James, but he grabbed Sirius and pulled him in the direction he last saw their friend. Green spells hurtled through the dirt-clogged air. Remus' heart was in his throat. _Come on, James…_

Sirius tripped. Remus caught him, but he wrenched himself out of Remus' grip and fell to the ground. James. Sirius had tripped over James. His glasses were hanging off one ear and blood trickled down his temple. Sirius scrambled towards him and pressed two fingers to his throat.

"Alive," he breathed. "Just knocked out." Relief flooded Remus for an instant, until Sirius was blasted backwards, out of sight.

Voldemort's shadowy form rose in the dust on the other side of the path. Breathing hard and pushing down panic, Remus stepped over James' prone form. He let anger pool in his gut. He could not kill the Dark Lord yet. He needed a distraction. Remus stared at the hedge behind the his enemy.

"Incendio!" he murmured fiercely, wand aimed directly at the hedge. The hedge burst into a violent inferno of deep blue flames that cast eerie flickering light on the path. Voldemort leapt away. Some flames caught on his robes, but he extinguished them almost lazily, more spells shooting from his wand, hurtling towards James. Remus hurriedly conjured protective spells around them, but the loss of concentration was enough.

Black ropes slammed into him. The force of them hurled him away from James. His cheekbone connected painfully with the stone pathway. Over the ringing in his ears, he could hear his wand rolling away. The weight of the journal in his pocket was slipping…then gone. It lay innocuously beside him. True fear flooded Remus' veins.

A foot kicked him onto his back. He stared into the snake-like face, which was tight with rage. The light of the blue flames danced over it like water. The void at the edges of his consciousness crashed against his mind with terrifying force. _Escape now!_ Remus forced himself to ignore the insistent pleading.

"So…" Voldemort hissed, his teeth bared. "You mind survived. How… disappointing."

Remus just stared up at the crimson eyes. _Don't look at the journal, don't look at the journal._ But Voldemort was too fixated on him to notice anything else.

"I have been preparing something special for you, werewolf. A slow death."

Dread lined his stomach and stung his eyes. But he did not look away.

Voldemort began to chant, " _Quod est fructus tenebris, timoribus animi, et eum, qui periit…"_

Remus' throbbing skull could not follow the string of the curse, only catching words here and there. Behind Voldemort's head, the stars were bright, needle-like points. Lines were starting to connect them, golden bright like cracks in the sky. Something else was gathering in Remus' vision. It was blacker than the night, sucking away the stars. An orb of something tarry, poisonous-

 _BOOM!_

The golden cracks in the sky burst into brilliant light, bright as the sun. Then the dome of wards around Malfoy Manor floated to the ground like dead leaves. The ropes that were cutting into Remus' skin fell away and his magic felt a familiar storm of rage and power.

"Enough."

Voldemort spun to the voice. Remus rolled out from underneath the menacing black orb. He snatched the journal and thought _Accio._ His wand flew to his hand. His feet found solid ground and he stood.

Dumbledore was striding down the damaged walkway. His robes were pale blue and luminous in the darkness. His face was marble and his eyes were lightning.

"Clever trick, Dumbledore, convincing me that the werewolf had lost his mind," Voldemort said, ire thrumming in his words. Remus flitted to the edge of the hedges, making his way swiftly back to James, who still had not moved. Sirius was stumbling from the dark evergreen branches, his arm at an unnatural angle.

"Terribly clever, if I do say so myself," Dumbledore said mildly. Remus lifted James bodily over his shoulder. Voldemort's attention was still centered on the Headmaster.

"You will pay for this." The threat was cold, but halting. Voldemort was so angry he could barely speak.

Remus started around Voldemort towards Sirius. James groaned and mumbled something. Remus froze.

Voldemort's snake face turned on him. The scarlet eyes widened in surprise, then traveled down to what Remus clutched in his hand. The journal. There was an instant of silence then-

" _NO!_ " he screeched.

An invisible shockwave jolted against Remus and he overbalanced, barely managing to catch himself. James tumbled from his shoulders behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius rolled, but leapt up and was sprinting towards them. But Remus could only focus on the frantic chanting that Voldemort resumed. The black orb rose from where it hovered, directed by Voldemort's bone-white hand. Remus threw up his wand, but his mind was blank. Voldemort's incantation ended with a shrieked word Remus knew.

" _Et moriar!"_

The orb flew towards him, almost in slow motion. There was a crack. Dumbledore appeared in a gyre of glowing blue robes between Remus and the spell. A shield expanded from the Headmaster's wand. The orb burst through, tattered and damaged, but unceasing.

"Albus!" Remus shouted.

But too late. The spell collided with the old wizard's chest and he dropped like a marionette with its strings cut. At the same moment, Malfoy and his Death Eaters swarmed through the tall hedges and stood petrified.

Cold silence settled over the walkway like the vacuum of space. Remus was shaking, staring down at Dumbledore and James crumbled at his feet. Sirius was at his side, arm held tightly to his abdomen.

Voldemort's shriek of disbelief shattered the quiet. He glared at the Headmaster's body, then to Remus.

The injured animagus whispered in Remus ear, "Apparate to the Hogwarts gates. I'll take James…" Remus nodded to show he heard. He slid the journal into his pocket. Then he turned his gaze to the Dark Lord.

"You cannot win this war, Tom," he said. His voice was tight but steady. "Not while we still have a reason to fight."

"Kill them," commanded Riddle.

Green spells shot towards them. Remus ducked down, grasped Dumbledore's shoulder and turned on the spot. In an instant, they were gone.

* * *

a/n: dun, dun, dun...

Also disclaimer: I love languages. I can do Spanish and French, but unfortunately Latin is not my thing. So if you happen to be a Latin scholar, I apologize if I butchered it...


	26. The Weight of Hope (Lily)

Hello readers!

Many apologies for leaving you with a cliffhanger and then taking longer than usual to update. I want to promise that won't happen again, but life is unpredictable...Anyway, thank you thank you for your reviews (Aithne Morrigan, I never replied to your review, but just know it made me smile, despite the ak threat;)).

You probably want to read the story, not my ramblings, so I'll wrap this up now.

-Cat

* * *

Chapter 26

 _The Weight of Hope (Lily)_

Lily bounced Harry on her hip and switched the direction of her pacing circle. Clockwise. Counterclockwise. Clockwise. Ticking and whirring filled her ears. Again, she could see the Moony, Padfoot, and Prongs hands rotating towards 'Mortal Peril.' She switched direction. Harry's head was a comforting weight on her shoulder. His spiky hair tickled her cheek, distracting her from the wild worry rampaging in her brain.

"Pwongs," Harry mumbled sleepily.

"That's right, Harry, Prongs came, didn't he?" she whispered. "Daddy had a special message for us."

She replayed the ghostly stag stepping through the nursery wall. It nuzzled her face and calmed her clock-induced anxiety. James was okay.

"Daddy's okay," she murmured, planting a kiss in Harry's hair. Around her, the portraits of Dumbledore's office were breathing softly in sleep. A few snorted and snored. And the ticking and whirring continued. Someone was not okay.

"Lily?"

"James!"

He appeared somewhere from the shadowy depths of the office behind Dumbledore's desk. She rushed towards him and threw her free arm around him. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest and he kissed her temple. Her hand ran through the messy hair and stopped on a cloth wrapping.

"You're hurt!"

"I'm fine," he said softly. "Just a bump on the head. Pomfrey says it'll be good as new in about an hour. I'm sorry I didn't realize you were here, I would've come and gotten you sooner..."

"How bad is it?"

James just looked at her. "I don't know."

She followed her husband around Dumbledore's desk. He led her to a door which was covered with the same wallpaper that decorated the office. With a gentle push, the door swung inwards and they entered the Headmaster's hidden quarters. It was similar to the rooms that she, James, and Sirius stayed in on Halloween night. She found herself in a simple circular sitting room, comfortably furnished with armchairs. Shelves laden with books lined the walls. There were only breaks in the bookshelves for latticed windows, a fireplace, and a door into the bedroom. Low conversation drifted from the opening as she and James entered.

Her eyes fell immediately on the bed. Dumbledore was lying there, pale and impossibly still. The milk-color of his face and beard gave her the strange impression that he was covered in cobwebs. Deep red sheets were pulled to his chest and his arms were limp at his sides. Her breath caught in her throat. If James had not told her he was alive, she would have assumed he was dead.

On the headboard, Fawkes perched like a sentinel. Lamps burned in the corners, illuminating the other people in the room with yellow light. Remus and Sirius looked up and gave her wan smiles of greeting. Sirius' arm was in a sling and Remus had nasty purple bruise on one side of his face, but they seemed otherwise unharmed. Except something seemed to be bothering Sirius, because he was shifting his weight and shooting glares to the other side of the bed. And Lily saw quite clearly what it was. Madame Pomfrey was deep in conversation with Severus Snape.

"Lily, dear," said Pomfrey when she noticed them. "It is good you're here, with your experience at Mungo's. Severus and I were just discussing how to proceed."

Snape did not look at her.

"What happened? James said he was hit with a curse."

"Dark magic, I'm afraid," Pomfrey replied, wringing her hands. "From what I can tell, it's acting like a slow poison, shutting down organs a little at a time. It may affect his mind as well, but Severus cannot break Dumbledore's occlumency shields right now. An invention of the Dark Lord's from what Remus told us."

"Voldemort did this?" Lily asked, shocked. She glanced at James, who had the grace to look apologetic for leaving that detail out.

"Yes," said Remus. His face was incredibly weary. "I was unable to understand most of it. I've provided Snape and Madame Pomfrey with a list of the words I did catch and a description. It was…" He took a deep breath. "It was intended for me. 'A slow death,' he said. Albus tried to stop it, but it broke through his shield and hit him instead."

"It broke his shield?" Her mind was racing through possibilities, mentally flipping through the tons of research and manuscripts she'd read for St. Mungo's.

"It was damaged," replied Remus. "I think that if any other person had tried shielding against it, it would have passed through with no effect on the curse. But since Albus did it…" Remus trailed away, his eyes drifting to the thin stick of wood on the bedside table. Dumbledore's wand. "I think perhaps the effects will be… slower." Before Lily could ask, another voice interrupted from the shadowy corner.

"But what I don't understand was what you were doing at Malfoy Manor in the first place? And how did Dumbledore know to come?"

Minerva McGonagall emerged from the murky dimness. She was wearing an emerald dressing gown and her hair was pulled into a long plait over one shoulder.

"Earlier this evening, I informed the Headmaster that those three idiots were about to get themselves killed because you were careless enough that Pettigrew heard a part of your plan," Snape said in a low voice. A vein in Sirius' temple throbbed. "Dumbledore seemed to understand what was going on. As to why they were there… you'd have to ask them."

"Are you saying we're to blame?" Sirius demanded in a strained voice.

"I'm saying that had you exercised more caution-"

"You have know idea what you're talking about," Sirius hissed.

"Clearly. But I suppose petty grudges inspire recklessness in us all."

"Go to hell, _Snivellus_. How do we know _you_ did not send Dumbledore to his death bed on purpose?!"

"Sirius, Snape-that is enough!"

Surprisingly, it was James who shouted. Lily watched with a small measure of pride as her husband stepped between his best friend and his nemesis. He continued in a carefully controlled tone.

"Sirius, I don't know why Snape is on our side, but arguing right now will not help anything. He's helped us this far, so don't go accusing people with only half the story. And Snape, that goes for you too."

"I'm not following your orders, Potter-"

"Do what you want, Snape," James snapped. "But things are going downhill fast. If you truly want an end to Voldemort, you're going to have to listen to someone else besides Dumbledore because he's not speaking."

All eyes glanced towards the bed where the Headmaster lay like a statue. Lily felt the metaphorical ground rock. What would they do without Dumbledore? Hogwarts and Hogsmeade were the last sanctuaries in the wizarding community of Britain. Without Dumbledore's influence, would they continue to be so? The tense silence that followed was broken by a hitch in Snape's breath. His hand snapped to his left forearm. Lily's stomach turned slightly at the motion.

Sirius' mouth opened, but James glared at him warningly before he could say anything.

"I have to go," Snape mumbled. "Voldemort is beginning to grow suspicious of a spy."

"Are you going to come back?" James asked. His gaze was neutral, evaluating. Snape's hesitation was like the pause before a verdict in court. His black eyes met Lily's.

"Yes," he said in a strangled whisper. "I will report to either Professor McGonagall or Lily…or-or to Lupin. Not to you."

"Fine," James agreed tightly. Lily did not miss the tiny clenching in his jaw when Snape said her name. But she was glad he said nothing more. Snape swept out of the room, black robes billowing behind him. Sirius watched him go with narrowed eyes, then turned to Remus.

"What did you do to make him trust you?" His question was stiff, but not accusing.

"I-I thanked him for saving my life," Remus said quietly. He looked to where Snape disappeared, his expression confused and amazed. Lily almost smiled. Humility could cross the deepest of chasms, it seemed.

"I'd better return to the hospital wing and check on some of my other patients," murmured Pomfrey. "Shacklebolt and Meliflua were at it again today, and I'm afraid I can do nothing more for the Headmaster until I have a better understanding of this curse. You'll sit with him Minerva?"

"Of course," said the Deputy Headmistress. The acting Headmistress, Lily supposed. _What will we tell the students?_ Minerva walked to Dumbledore's bedside. Lily wondered if she felt as overwhelmed as she did. Minerva sighed and then fixed James with the stare she reserved for particularly misbehaving students.

"You need to tell me what's going on," she said firmly, in a tone that brooked no argument. "Why were you at Malfoy Manor?"

Remus shifted from his position and pulled something from his pocket. "We went for this," he said. He held out the journal so it caught the lamplight.

"You got it," Lily whispered.

"We did," said Remus with a hint of triumph. But it was eclipsed by a shadow. "Riddle saw."

"He knows?"

"He knows," Sirius confirmed. Minerva harrumphed and Sirius' mouth curved in a half-smile. "Sorry, Minnie, we should explain."

They painstakingly revealed their quest since Christmas: the search for the horcruxes. Minerva seemed disturbed, but unsurprised by what Voldemort had done. She stayed silent until they finished explaining, her lips pressed thin.

"So you have three?" she clarified. They nodded. Her sharp eyes turned to Lily. "And you think you know where one is hidden in the castle, but you can't find it."

"Yes."

"And now You-Know-Who knows what you're up to?"

"Unfortunately."

"Hmph," she harrumphed again. "Well perhaps not all is lost. You say that the missing horcruxes maybe have something to do with the Founders?"

"We think so," Remus replied.

"Well then," she said, straightening her glasses. "Why haven't you asked the ghosts? I'm sure they'd be happy to assist. Quite a few lived in the same era of the Founders."

Lily's jaw almost dropped. Sirius' did. Minerva had placed a practical solution right in their hands.

"I'll-I'll do that first thing tomorrow," Lily said.

"Good. You need to get some rest. As do the rest of you." Minerva surveyed them sternly over her glasses. She conjured a comfortable chair and settled next to the Headmaster's bedside. She smoothed the sheets in an almost motherly way. Then she looked back at them, sympathy finally breaking through her iron-mask. "Go to bed. We will be better equipped to handle our burdens with some sleep. James-"

James' drooping posture straightened. "Yes?"

Minerva smiled and shook her head in a disbelieving way. "You've grown up."

"I-yeah, I guess..." he said uncertainly.

"We need to convene the order. I have a school to run, so I'm making that your responsibility. I trust you'll do it well."

"You're sure?" Minerva glared at him. "I'm mean, of course-yeah. Thanks."

"You inspire me, Prongs," said Sirius dryly. In the sober atmosphere of the room, the weak humor was a breath of air.

"Shut up." But James' gaze was soft.

"It's settled then," Minerva said. "Now relieve your wife of your child before her arm falls off."

* * *

In the safety of the bedroom, James told Lily everything. His words were heavy and a long silence followed the tale. Lily waited, the energy for speaking long fled.

"I don't understand how it went so wrong," James' voice suddenly whispered into the dark. "What if… what if Dumbledore never wakes up?"

Lily stared at the dim ceiling, praying for some words of comfort to give him. But she had nothing except, "Dumbledore won't die. I'll find something, something to break the curse."

She prayed desperately that it was true. James said no more.

Lily spent hours tossing and turning, unable to sleep. Her mind kept frantically going through possible counter-curses to cure Dumbledore, questions to ask the Hogwarts ghosts, and heightened anxiety about Voldemort. She finally abandoned sleep and snuck down into the office. By five in the morning, she was surrounded by hundreds of books on the dark arts and spell-invention, a very shady subject in itself. So far she had only a few possible conclusions.

The first was that Frank Bryce and Arwel Atkins must have been victims of Riddle's experimentation. Their bodies showed similar effects of what was happening to Albus right now. Lily shivered, sickened by the thought. And there could be more, people without family or friend to alert anyone if they went missing.

Another conclusion was that the curse had to be some kind of sustained magic. All magic needs some kind of channel, which being purely physical, would only hold it for a time. Spells eventually faded and needed to be recast, even stronger enchantments such as wards, which usually had some kind of physical anchor. In _Hogwarts, A History,_ she'd read of these 'anchors' around the school, so imbued with magic that they almost acted as their own generators of energy. Energy was the key to sustaining magic without it fading. There were some natural sources, but the lore about them was difficult for most to understand. She had a feeling that the Department of Mysteries had a whole team dedicated to studying these. The most obvious source besides the naturally occurring ones would be the caster of the curse. Or the recipient. The mysterious curse on Albus had to have some kind of source to keep it strong…

Here, Lily deliberated. There were two options then. Either caster or the victim was driving the curse. In St. Mungo's, the types were categorized accordingly: maledictum motus or maledictum parasiticus. The only way to tell with an unknown spell was time. If the curse's pacing was steady and fluctuated randomly, it was maledictum motus. But if it got stronger as the victim got weaker, it was maledictum parasiticus.

Lily huffed in frustration. She could not stand by waiting while Dumbledore deteriorated. Especially if it were the latter. A parasitic curse would have to be cured with a countercurse, one they in turn would need to invent, which would take time they may not have.

But a caster-driven curse… without a countercurse, one need only kill the caster. Voldemort. She swallowed a lump of anxiety. Every day, the stakes on their mission increased.

At this point, Remus joined her, bearing two cups of hot tea. She shared her findings with him. He sighed as she finished.

"And the weight behind defeating him grows even heavier," he said wryly. "I guess you can let Snape and Pomfrey know. See if they have anything to add."

Lily nodded. They did not speak much after that, burying themselves in convoluted passages and meandering descriptions of curses and hexes and ancient remedies. As she worked, Lily also watched Remus carefully, wondering if his encounter with Voldemort had adversely affected his progress. The bruising on his face was fading quickly. But he was quiet, so she did not ask.

An hour later, when she was finally gathering her things to head to work, she felt incredibly discouraged and exhausted. And now she was facing the student body of Hogwarts. Minerva would be making the announcement at breakfast. Lily floo-ed straight into her office, feeling very ill-equipped to deal with frightened and confused adolescents. She felt like one herself right now. And her office was a mess. She sighed, wishing for some kind of order in her life. And desperately wanting time to process the disorder.

"The mudbloo-I mean Mrs. Potter has arrived. Timely, as promised by the master-"

Lily shrieked.

"And screaming like a banshee, what my mistress would say-"

"What are you doing here?" Lily breathed. The creature was hunched and flat-footed. Large bat-like ears spilled grimy hair and he wore a dirty tunic. A house-elf. But definitely not one of the Hogwarts elves. He clutched a lumpy sack in one hand and appeared to have been waiting for her arrival. He eyed her with distaste.

"The master asks Kreacher to bring him books, so books Kreacher brings. Secrets, secrets. Secret spells, hidden places, islands of the night. Kreacher does not like hiding from his mistress, oh no, a terrible thing. But the master orders-"

There was a rushing of flames and a spurt of green light. Sirius came spinning out of the fireplace, grinning sheepishly.

"Ah, Lily. Sorry I overslept and I totally forgot to warn you after last night-"

"What the hell is this, Black?"

"Language, Lils." He winked. She bit back a retort. Black had some nerve lecturing her on language. "You've been on a roll lately. This is Kreacher. I needed him to run an errand for me at my mother's house and the only logical place I could think to meet was your office."

"The only logical place-" she huffed.

"Thank you, Kreacher, you may go now."

Kreacher eyed Sirius balefully and disappeared with a crack, leaving the lumpy satchel behind. Sirius lifted it and peered inside.

"You needed books?" Lily asked.

"Yes. Books you apparently cannot find in the restricted section of the Hogwarts library. As well as a few records on my lovely family's numerous properties. Bye Lily!"

"But-"

Before she could ask why, Sirius was gone. She sighed. When they were in school, she would have suspected him of some nefarious prank that would not actually cause any harm. She would have been concerned about the potential victims. But now… now she was concerned about him. Sirius could be reckless and her list of living friends was getting short. Which reminded her of why she was here so early.

She dumped her bag in a desk drawer. The Marauder's Map was lying open and blank, so she tapped it and muttered, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." The corner of her mouth twitched at her husband's adolescent ingenuity. Black lines spread across the parchment, expertly traced by Remus… and Peter. The map was as much to scale as possible in a castle that was constantly changing. She frowned at the dot labeled 'Dumbledore,' unmoving in his quarters. 'Madame Pomfrey' was wandering around the room as well. Then she scanned the area near her office. It only took a few moments to spot the first ghost. It was not hard to find one, as Hogwarts had quite a dense population of ghosts. But her heart sank when she read the label. The last thing she wanted this morning was a depressing conversation with the Bloody Baron.

The dungeons were very cold this time of year. The dampness dripped on the walls, accentuating the smell of underground decay. She followed the map, glancing away to search for the tell-tale glimmer of a Hogwarts ghost. There. He was hugging the wall as he drifted morosely along. His tattered transparent robes were stained with silver blood.

Swallowing down apprehension and folding away the map, she said, "Um… Mr. Baron?"

Her voice echoed eerily and the ghost paused. Lily realized that she had never actually heard the Slytherin ghost speak. Could he speak?

"Professor." He could. His voice was raspy and defeated, but very audible in the silence.

"I was wondering if you could help me with something." She made her way in front of the Baron. He did not look at her, but stared straight ahead.

"Help you?" He sounded amused.

"Yes," Lily ploughed on. "I'm looking for some information on the Hogwarts Founders. Do you perhaps know anything about them?"

"I do." The Baron's lips barely moved. His face was contorted.

"Okay," Lily said uncertainly. "Right. Well I was hoping that maybe you could tell me-"

"No."

"I did not finish my question."

"I do not wish to discuss the Founders." His hand twitched in an unsettling way.

"Why?" Lily asked with a hint of frustration.

His silver eyes finally turned to her. They were blank. Lily suppressed a shiver.

"Ask the Gray Lady," he whispered. Then he disappeared into the wall without a sound.

"The Gray Lady," Lily repeated to herself. The only reason she knew of the Ravenclaw ghost was because she stumbled across her a few times in the towers on prefect patrol. She was another ghost from whom Lily had never heard a word. Above, Lily could hear a few footsteps starting to make their way to the Great Hall for breakfast. The students would be learning about Dumbledore soon.

The Gray Lady was located up on the eighth floor. Lily spent the climb up into the towers of Hogwarts trying to decide how to address Dumbledore's… illness in class. Should she mention it at all? He was not dead. But then… many students would see this as a defeat… or a victory. Lily grimaced, thinking about her Slytherin students. While many were quiet, quick-learners who preferred to stay away from the spotlight, there were some, like Meliflua, who thrived on confrontation over the war.

She shook her head. She was acting like a frightened school-girl. Of course she should say something. She was the adult, the teacher. The students would need some comfort, however little she could offer. She turned down a corridor that was lit by broad stripes of morning from tall windows. Half-formed sentences and words flitted across her brain, but none of them seemed adequate.

Three steps down. Now she was in another hall. This one was chilly and Lily realized one of the windows was cracked. Sighing, she went and closed it tight. She pulled out the map to double-check it, but before she could activate it, she caught a flash of white in the corner of her eye.

"Wait!"

The figure paused. Long hair streamed down her back. Her robes barely brushed the floor. She revolved in place. She was pale, a single line of silver marring the soft, translucent skin about her collarbones. The Gray Lady.

"Yes?" she asked softly. Her voice was distant.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," Lily said cautiously. She stepped away from the window, but did not attempt to come any nearer. "You might not know who I am-"

"I know who you are, Lily Potter."

"And you're the Gray Lady," Lily answered. The Gray Lady nodded haughtily.

"Why are you seeking me?"

For some reason, instinct told Lily not to mention the Bloody Baron. "I need to ask something about the Founders. I'm looking for something that may have belonged to one of them."

"Do you want to use it?" The Gray Lady eyed her suspiciously. The question was hostile and oddly… specific.

"Um… no. Use what, exactly?"

"My mother's diadem," the Gray Lady responded, as if it were obvious. When Lily looked confused, the Gray Lady's chin rose slightly. "In life I was Helena Ravenclaw, daughter of Rowena Ravenclaw."

 _The lost diadem of Ravenclaw._ Of course, Lily heard the legends in school. She and Remus had even discussed the possibility. But… the diadem had been missing for centuries. Surely if it were found, the wizarding community would have known. Unless… unless the person who discovered it wanted it to remain secret. Lily studied the Gray Lady, who was watching her, waiting for a reaction.

"You told someone else where it was," Lily guessed. The Gray Lady had clearly not expected this response. Her ghostly form jerked in surprise. Her cheeks turned slightly opaque in a flush.

"He was kinder, then," she whispered. "Charming, even. I didn't know…"

"No one did," Lily soothed. The Gray Lady, however, seemed offended by Lily's attempt to comfort her. She tossed her long, dark hair and began to drift away. Lily hurried after her. "Wait, Helena, I'm sorry-I just have one more question." The ghost did not stop, so Lily asked loudly, "Do you know where it is now?"

The Gray Lady became statuesque in her stillness. So quietly it could have been the wind, she said, "No." Then she vanished into the floor.

Lily breathed out in the cold hallway. Her breath congealed into mist. It was incredibly desolate up here, an aerie away from the life that the castle protected. Here they were, wrapped away from a war that pounded on the doorstep. And she could not find a simple diadem in a room of hidden things that may or may not hold it. She felt the pull of the seventh floor corridor and the Room of Requirement. But classes would be starting in an hour.

And she had to talk to Madame Pomfrey. She pulled the Marauder's Map from her pocket and opened it.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

She scanned first to Dumbledore's quarters, where she had last seen the matron.. A dot labeled as the Headmaster was utterly still in the room. Minerva McGonagall was pacing around it. Lily's heart seized, still rocked by the fall of Dumbledore. They would never stop fighting, but what if there weren't enough of them left by the end of this?

Sighing, she folded the map over, looking for the hospital wing. But something else caught her attention.

Another dot was scurrying away from the Headmaster's office. A dot labeled 'Peter Pettigrew.'

Lily stood like a statue for two seconds. Then at once she was moving swiftly, her feet nearly flying towards the corridor that hosted the stone gargoyle. All the while, she watched Peter's dot as it wove back and forth across the hallway.

 _He can't get in,_ she reminded herself, her heart pounding. _He doesn't know the passwords._

She flew down a staircase, then burst through a door into the corridor, wand drawn. Dawn was spilling through the latticed windows, tiling the floor in gold. There were no students here, most getting ready for class. But against a wall, beneath a faded tapestry, shivered the shadow of a rat.

"You'll find nothing here to report to your master, Peter," she said, loudly and firmly. The shadow twitched and turned.

Lily found herself staring into the deadened, watery blue eyes of the animagus. She had never taken the time to fully process Pettigrew's turn. Too many things had captured her attention, put these feelings on hold. Now, a thousand emotions pummeled against her concentration: rage, grief, hatred, … and pity. Peter was always looked down on, always noticed last. She could not figure out what had been the final straw for the lost Marauder. But, it was suddenly clear to her, why James had spared their betrayer.

Peter did not transform, choosing to stay a rodent. Moments passed…

Without warning, Peter dove towards the wall and wriggled into a crack between the stones. Cursing, Lily dashed to the wall and knelt at the base. Aiming her wand carefully into the crack, she hissed, "Stupefy!"

The crack was illuminated with red light and she listened hard. Not a sound… then a scrabbling. _Damn._

She knelt in front of the escape, her knees hurting, but she could not bring herself to care. She hurriedly flipped through the map, the crackling of paper echoing in the corridor. But Peter's small escape route was not drawn.

"Don't you regret anything, Peter?" she demanded at the crack in the wall. The scrabbling continued without pause, fading into silence.

A pressure in her chest was suddenly very noticeable. Everything from the last few months was building up there, catalyzed by the sight of the traitor. Her eyes stung, but she swallowed back any tears. With a jolt, she realized she had not cried since Marlene's death. When had she forgotten how to cry?

* * *

Lily's veins pounded with amazement, adrenaline. With relief. And horror. Weeks of searching, and here it was, found with the simple knowledge of what she was looking for.

It was nestled in black velvet. The eagle of Ravenclaw wrapped around the circlet, its silver wings delicately patterned with onyx. And in the center, at the eagle's heart, a deep blue sapphire gleamed. The diadem of Ravenclaw. Here, amongst the piles of totems, precious items, illicit materials. Lily ran her fingers over the cool metal, remembering the tales of its power to bestow wisdom. Oh, how they needed wisdom now. But now… now it was corrupted by the soul of the Dark Lord.

Lily snapped the lid of the box shut. In the valley between the mountains of hidden things, the sound echoed with a kind of finality. She slid the box into her bag and exited the Room of Hidden Things for the last time. As the door to the room faded back into stone, the load of the lost diadem slid into her stomach. Perhaps a better name for the chamber would be the Room of Forgotten Things. A graveyard of old, unused dreams.

The box containing the diadem felt heavy in her bag. She adjusted on her shoulder and began to make her way to her office. The day had been long and agonizing, waiting for a moment to duck into the Room. Just now, her lack of sleep the night before was weighing her down. And her encounter with Peter. His hidden passage and the catastrophe at Malfoy Manor taught her not to underestimate the rat. They needed to be more careful of what conversations they held in Hogwarts.

Just then, footsteps interrupted her thoughts and she looked up.

"Clive," she greeted the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Professor Camduin was making his way along the wall of the seventh floor corridor. His reaction was delayed, as if she had interrupted a deep thought.

"Oh, hello Lily," he said distractedly.

"Everything okay?" she asked. The shy professor hesitated, shuffling his feet.

"I suppose," he mumbled. "It's just… Dumbledore…"

"Right," she said, feeling the heavy cloud of uncertainty fill the hall. She studied the older man, taking in his slumped posture. He must have left some grading in the faculty lounge. It was late for him to be returning from class.

"It will be okay, I suppose," Clive said with a shrug. "In the end."

"We won't stop fighting, Clive," she assured him.

Clive smiled crookedly. "Until the last man?"

"The very last," Lily said seriously. Clive's smile slipped away, leaving his face drawn. His shoulders slumped even more and his eyes went blank. They went to stare at the wall.

"Good evening, Lily."

"Good evening, Clive," Lily replied.

She felt his dead stare follow her until she turned a corner. Feeling disconcerted by her fellow teacher's mood, she walked briskly, eager to return home, where despair was not so heavy. The sky outside the windows she passed was dark purple and speckled with stars. Throwing a handful of floo powder into the dying embers in her office, she said firmly, "Kent Cottage." Grates spun past her, and they seemed to be whispering, "Four pieces down, four pieces down. So close, so close."

Lily stepped into the living room lightly, excited to share her piece of good news. But she immediately noticed something different. She had grown accustomed to smelling the beginnings of dinner when she arrived, exhausted from her day. She looked forward to joining Remus in final preparations for the last meal of the day. But there were no comforting smells wafting from the kitchen. The house was somehow less welcoming this evening without the aroma of cooking food.

"Hello?"

"Lily, your home!"

James rounded the corner, Harry on his hip. Lily listened for sounds of Sirius and Remus, but the house was quiet.

"I found it," she breathed, unable to contain her news. "The horcrux, James, I found it, Minerva was right about the ghosts…"

"Brilliant." It was forced.

She examined James closely. He was pale. His forehead was creased with worry and his eyes were suspiciously bright.

"James… is everything okay?"

"No."

She opened her mouth to ask, but Harry interrupted.

"Moom sad." His green eyes stared solemnly at his mother.

"Remus?"

James sighed heavily. He walked around the coffee table. He pulled her close and rested his chin gently on her head. Harry ran his hands over her hair.

"Mad-Eye came just half an hour ago." James' voice was a deep thrum in his chest. "Lyall's missing. Moody went to check on him, found the place ransacked. He was probably taken for ransom or information… or it's a trap." He pulled away and stared helplessly down at her. "Remus ran out. Sirius and Mad-Eye went after him."

"Oh god…" Lily swallowed a hardened lump in her throat.

"I've contacted Ava and Arthur, see if they can listen for anything at the Ministry," James continued. His voice was emotionless with his effort to control it. "I don't know what else to do. I'm trying to lead, but I'm not ready for this, Lily. What would Dumbledore do?"

"He would do the same," Lily said gently. "And I'll try and get in contact with Severus. He might know something."

James nodded. He was breathing deeply. It was an old calming technique he used to use during his Hogwarts quidditch days.

"Moony always comes back," Lily murmured softly. She felt the sting of tears. But she swallowed hard. She could not cry yet.

"What if we can't win this?" James' question was barely audible. "I'm trying not to lose hope, but… damn it, Lily, it's getting harder. What if…"

"We'll never stop." Lily was surprised how fiercely her answer came. The small triumph of finding another horcrux burned against the sorrow. "Hell, even if we're the last people standing, we won't stop. Because every person that died fighting is counting on us to hold on to hope And we are _not_ going to despair. Peter did. And he fell into the dark."

"We'll die before we fall, huh?" James asked with a soft chuckle.

"If it comes to that-" Lily stared at their son, at Harry. She would protect him with her last breath. When she looked at James, she knew that he was thinking the same. So her next words held the weight of a promise. "We'll die fighting."

* * *

a/n: Sorry, another sort of cliffhanger. It just happened that way... review please and thank you for your support :)


	27. Prongs' Agony (James)

You guys are seriously the best. And special thanks to HermioneGranger519 who keeps my grammar/spelling on the straight and narrow :). This is the first time I've had internet since my last post, so I apologize for my inability to personally respond to reviews. Just know that your words are valued!

And now onto the story! (Unless you want to read my a/n on my current treatment of Snape. If you're curious go for it, if not, skip it.)

-Cat

*Concerning one Severus Snape:

It has been brought to my attention by several guest reviewers that there is some confusion regarding the interactions between Lily, the Marauders, and Snape. I tend to have a very neutral opinion towards the guy (don't love him, but don't hate him either. I guess I'm… justly annoyed by his actions in the books? idk…). Since I can't directly respond to you guys, I'm going to post a note for you.

Just a reminder: the Marauders and Lily don't know that Snape was the one to tell the prophecy to Voldemort (sorry, I made the assumption this was clear, and it wasn't, so that's my fault). Even though it can be said that Snape is the reason Voldy is after them, they are quite ignorant of that fact. They have reason to dislike/distrust him (he is a Death Eater still and he was a bit of a git in school), but they also have reason to be more mild in their reactions to him (he helped them save Remus). Anyway, those shades of gray are the reason no one is outright hating on Snape (well, except Sirius). Thank you for sharing your opinion and I hope that clears it up a bit!

* * *

Chapter 27

 _Prongs' Agony (James)_

James was never good at waiting. It was a pointless activity. And right now, it was imprisoning him underneath its heavy mass. Waiting for any changes in Dumbledore's condition, waiting for Voldemort to make his next move, waiting for word from Sirius, waiting for Remus. Waiting for something other than heartache and barbaric death and worry, worry, worry. This sustained state of stress could not be good for anyone.

A loud, protesting creak interrupted his thoughts, followed by a soft sigh from the crib. In his anxious waiting, James had rocked the rocking chair a little too violently. James stood from the chair and looked down at Harry. He slept on his back, Moony, Padfoot, and Prongs curled around him. He'd never asked Sirius what happened to Wormtail, but he assumed he would never see the stuffed rat again. Against the starry ceiling, the plush snitch flew lazily, its wings making a gentle rhythmic noise. For a moment, James relished the comfort of seeing his son peaceful in his sleep.

The light changed from false gold starlight to silver ripples across the walls. James turned to a dog patronus as it padded noiselessly towards him.

" _We're fine, Prongs, so stop pacing like a nervous wreck and get some sleep. I'll bring him back in the morning."_

Harry sighed again in his sleep and pulled stuffed Padfoot closer. James grinned widely and lowered himself back into his rocking chair, relief flooding him. On his watch, Moony and Padfoot were pointed at 'Lost.' It was an odd position, but James figured they meant for it to be that way. At least they weren't pointing at 'Mortal Peril.' He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

" _It's him, Lily! Take Harry and go!"_

" _Avada Kedavra!"_

 _Green light danced towards him in slow motion, coming closer and closer. He was frozen to the spot… he could not move… and suddenly it bounced away and exploded in the front room of Number 7, Founders Lane._

 _Reality blurred…_

 _Voldemort was laughing, the sound was like a torture curse. They were in Malfoy Manor. James' gaze was drawn inexplicably downwards. Remus lay on the ground, eyes wide and bright and staring…_

James jerked awake.

"Da!"

Harry was standing in his crib and giggling at him. Sunlight filled the room. His heart rate slowing, James rubbed his face vigorously. No matter how his dreams started, they always ended in Malfoy Manor in early November.

"That cannot have been comfortable," Lily's melodious voice observed from the doorway. She was wrapped in a housecoat, looking like she had just gotten out of the shower. Her red hair was dark with wetness and dripped onto the collar. James grinned at her guiltily and rubbed at a crick in his neck.

"Sorry… I was going to come back to bed but… I fell asleep."

He stood and lifted Harry from the crib. She crossed the nursery and kissed them both. "It's okay. I was worried too," she whispered. Green eyes grazed over him. "You were dreaming. It did not look pleasant."

"It wasn't," James sighed. The killing curse flashed again before his eyes. "Um, Lils I actually need to talk to you about something-"

"Hungwy, Da," Harry interrupted.

"Right, 'course you are," James said resignedly.

"Later then," she said softly.

"Yeah… have you been downstairs yet?"

"Mm-hm. They're home if that's what you're wondering. They know about the diadem, which perked them up a little bit. You should go down."

James nodded and hitched Harry up. They descended the stairs, James listening carefully for voices. But there was only the occasional chink of teacups on wood.

Sirius grimaced at James when he entered the kitchen. James raised his eyebrows questioningly and Sirius nodded in the direction of the kitchen table. Remus sat there, absently stirring his tea. Harry started kicking to get down, so James lowered him to the floor. Harry tottered determinedly towards Remus and clambered up on the bench beside him.

"Moom sad?"

Remus blinked down at Harry, apparently surprised to see the one-year-old seated next to him. A small smile twitched across his mouth. "I'll be okay, cub. Don't worry about me."

Harry gave him a skeptical look so reminiscent of Lily, James snorted. Harry's accusing glare shot to him. "Moom is sad," he scolded, clearly annoyed that his father had the gall to express any mirth at this time. Remus shot him an amused look.

"You are just like your mother," James sighed.

"Thank Merlin for that," Lily said from the stairs. She was now dressed in her professor robes, hair dry and shining. She headed straight for the stove to start breakfast. James joined her briefly to pour himself a cup of tea.

As he passed Sirius to grab the milk, he murmured, "No news on Lyall?"

"Not even a fingerprint," Sirius grumbled ominously. "The only thing we can do is wait, I guess. He wouldn't take him alive for nothing. He wants something." He looked significantly at James. The horcruxes.

Disheartened, he added a dash of milk to his tea. He set this on the table and slid onto the bench across from Remus and Harry. Remus was pale and sleep-deprived, that much was obvious. James hated how the sorrow on his face was refreshingly different from the haunted expression he carried for months.

"Are you really okay, Moony?" James asked softly.

"I'm not," Remus sighed. "But I'm not entirely sure what 'okay' means anymore so…"

"You've got a point there." James burned his tongue on his tea, but kept sipping it. Because waiting was overrated. He thought back to his dream. So much had happened since the fall of the Ministry, that he had nearly forgotten that he should not be alive. His gaze flicked to Sirius, who was interrogating Lily about the Room of Hidden Things. Once he was sure that both were not listening, he said in a low voice, "Did you figure anything out about blocking a killing curse?"

Remus nodded once. And remained completely silent.

"Anything?"

"I'm still working on it," Remus said evasively. "It's… complicated. There's nothing written on it, so I'm literally operating on theories. This investigation belongs in the Department of Mysteries. We're talking about… very old magic. The type that isn't easily understood because it doesn't follow any logical rules."

"So you know what it is?"

"I know what it _might_ be," Remus corrected. For some reason, he seemed self-conscious: his cheeks colored and he avoided James' eye. Normally, James would have pressed for more, but he was not completely insensitive.

"And your dad?"

Remus' scarred hands clenched his teacup a little more tightly. "Probably dead," he whispered. "But we won't know for sure until there's a-a body. Maybe there's something else he wants… Voldemort is…he…" Remus cleared his throat and started again. "Learning that I'm perfectly sane and our merry band is chipping away his soul piece by piece set him on a warpath. This is just the beginning."

James did not respond, thinking of what Sirius had said. A chill ran down his spine. He anchored himself by watching Harry play with Remus' frayed sleeve. They needed to reconvene the Order of the Phoenix. As soon as they could. And he needed to tell Lily about what happened in the Ministry today. He could not stand keeping anything from her with so much else weighing him down.

After breakfast was finished, Sirius muttered something about having someplace to be, ignoring their questions about where he was going. Then Remus disappeared into his room. Once there was silence from the back hallway, Lily turned to him.

"What was it you wanted to talk about?"

* * *

The table was round, just like it always was. The chairs were identical. A play area was set up in the corner for Harry, Ron, and Neville. Dumbledore lay dying in his quarters. And James hated that he had to take his place. Because Dumbledore could never be replaced.

Silence fell over the order members when James went to Dumbledore's customary seat. He went to the chair on the right and remained standing, gesturing for everyone else to sit down. Every eye was trained on him. _What are they thinking? Why did Minerva ask me? I can't be the leader here… Am I a usurper?_ His heart beat loudly. McGonagall cleared her throat and looked at him pointedly. Her acknowledgement of him was like a benediction.

"In the absence of Albus Dumbledore, I'll be leading tonight's meeting." James hoped he sounded confident. "If we could start with the reports from the Ministry, beginning with Ava Finch."

Ava stood and James collapsed in his seat. "The round-up of muggle-borns is increasing. Up until a point, they were being kept in the holding cells by the courts, but they have started bringing groups to Azkaban." Ava grimaced and sounds of shock and outrage filled the room.

"Supporters of You-Know-Who have increased tenfold in the Ministry since the government was taken, many of them emerging from the woodwork as they will be welcomed with open arms. Muggle-raids are also more common, but as you know response time is too slow for any witches and wizards trying to protect them since the auror department was dismantled."

"Thank you, Finch," James said as she finished and looked at him. "Anything from the rest of you at the Ministry?" He scanned over Arthur Weasley, Edgar Bones, and Sturgis Podmore. Arthur and Edgar shook their heads, but Sturgis stood.

"I stayed late two nights ago. After the Ministry fell to You-Know-Who, I was moved to a grunt-working job by the courtrooms and I had a lot of work to finish. When I was leaving I… I saw _him_."

"Voldemort?" Sirius asked loudly. Half of the room flinched. "In the Ministry?"

"Y-Yes," replied Sturgis, who had jerked quite violently. "He was going with a group of Death Eaters to the Department of Mysteries on the same floor. Augustus Rookwood was leading them. They didn't see me, so I hid in an empty room."

"Brilliant, Sturgis," James breathed.

Encouraged, Sturgis smiled tremulously and continued. "They returned not too long after entering the department. Voldemort held something…it looked like a crystal ball, only very small and filled with mist. He was… very angry. No one said a word as they got on the elevator. I don't know what it was."

James did not either. Was it some kind of weapon? His stomach dropped. If it was, what could it do? What kinds of things did they develop in the Department of Mysteries?

"So Voldemort has the full prophecy then," said a low voice, interrupting James' thoughts. It was Remus. Everyone looked at the werewolf, the silence intensifying. He had not contributed any information in a meeting since he had been captured. Remus shifted uncomfortably with the sudden attention. "There's a room in the Department of Mysteries called the Hall of Prophecies. Only the subjects of the prophecy can remove it from the hall. They must have tried though, I bet that's why Eldridge is still in St. Mungo's. He'll probably never recover."

"You speak of the prophecy that could be about Harry or Neville?" asked Alice. The room shifted. By now, most of the order members were aware in a vague sense about the prophecy, but only a select few had heard the contents.

"Yes," Remus replied. "Voldemort never heard it in full, according to Dumbledore."

"How did Dumbledore know?"

Remus shrugged and shook his head. James noticed Snape shift from where he stood in the shadows, very pale and quiet. He had a good guess who told Dumbledore that Voldemort knew, but he stayed quiet. An old question was also niggling in the back of his mind that he had not thought of in some time: _Who told Voldemort know in the first place?_

"What does that mean? What could You-Know-Who be planning?" Sturgis asked.

James could not come up with a good answer. A furious protective monster was rising in his chest at the thought of Voldemort renewing his mission to kill his son. Remus glanced at him and said softly, "We can only guess. He seems to be accelerating his movement against us."

A solemn silence followed Remus' statement. James scanned the discouraged faces, wishing there was something he could say. The only thing he could think of was to ask Mad-Eye for reports from surveillance groups.

"Well," Mad-Eye said gruffly. "As long as we are speaking of Voldemort's movements, we should all hear from Dedalus."

Dedalus Diggle stood nervously before the order. His voice was high and squeaky, but his report was as detailed as it always was. "As you know, I have continued to conduct my covert mission in Knockturn Alley, extending now into Diagon Alley. Death Eater activity as certainly increased in both areas and for the most part, the shops in Diagon Alley have closed because of the drop in business. However, I observed something unusual the day after Dumbledore-was injured."

James straightened in his seat and exchanged significant glances with Sirius and Remus. That was the day after Voldemort learned about their search for the horcruxes.

"A group of three Death Eaters arrived in Diagon Alley around noon. They were unmasked: Bellatrix Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange, and Lucius Malfoy. Bellatrix was unusually… subdued. Usually in a public place she crows the recent victories of You-Know-Who. Malfoy did not look well, like he had been tortured. He was limping." James could guess why. Most of the order did not know what had transpired at Malfoy Manor, only that Dumbledore was injured. Malfoy had failed to protect a piece of Voldemort's soul.

"The Death Eaters went directly to Gringotts. I thought that maybe they were withdrawing something, which seemed unlikely, especially in the current climate. They were there for some time. They did not seem to have taken anything when they came out. After they disapparated, I tried asking the goblins, but they are very tight-lipped when it comes to customer security, no matter who the customer is. One goblin, though, Griphook, found me later, must have followed me. Said he did not want to choose a side, but believed that the goblins would suffer under You-Know-Who's reign. He was not the goblin that served the Death Eaters, but he told me that they went to the Lestrange vault and they did withdraw something. He could not ask what it was. It must have been sensitive, because none of the Death Eaters spoke a word the whole time they were there."

Alarm bells were going in James' head. If he were Voldemort, he would be checking the locations of his horcruxes. Finding them missing, he would want to gather the rest to himself. Most of the locations would be easy except… _Hogwarts_.

"Did the Death Eaters disapparate right away? Did they say anything?" James asked sharply.

Dedalus studied him, sensing the urgency but not understanding. "No, not a word," he answered. But his eyebrows contracted in thought. "Come to think of it, though… Rabastan separated himself from Bellatrix and Malfoy, as if he were going somewhere else."

Rabastan… excellent at disguises and the imperius curse. The pallor on Remus' face told him that the werewolf was thinking the same thing. Voldemort was trying to infiltrate Hogwarts, using more than just the rat. James' intestines twisted in on themselves and he struggled to keep his face blank. They could only fight this war on so many fronts.

"Okay. Thank you, Dedalus. Anything else, Mad-Eye?"

"Nothing except this," Mad-Eye growled. The electric blue eyes steadied and lined up with the beady black one. "More and more witches and wizards suspected of supporting Dumbledore are going missing. I advise each and every one of you to be cautious. Constant vigilance, for yourselves and your families."

A tremor of movement shook the members of the order. The energy of the room grew darker and more sluggish. James took in their faces, pale and exhausted. This was the final circle of people resisting the dark, and they had slowly been beaten down. More chairs were empty, the rest were older, sadder, wearier. There was nothing he could say.

The quiet stretched. From the corner, Harry and Neville started giggling. He glanced over and saw that baby Ron had become the unfortunate victim of one of Harry's plush bludgers. A small burst of warmth broke through the gathering clouds. He had to say something.

"We end this meeting tonight… with a solemn recognition of the state of our world and the state of our Headmaster." No one moved. Deep breath… breathe out. "And the hope that there will always be someone fighting to make this world better… safer. If not for us, for our children." Half-smile. "Hokey… but it's enough for me right now. Maybe it will be enough for you."

Lily's hand grabbed his tightly. She was still pale after what James had told her this morning. James could sense it, though, an inevitable closing. This was the final circle of fighters. They would have to finish this before it got any smaller.

* * *

"What did Snape say?"

Remus quirked an eyebrow at James. "How did you know that was where I was?"

"Where else would you go in at four in the morning?"

"Point." Remus removed his heavy cloak and closed the front door. The biting February chill lessened. In the burning lamp of the foyer, James did his best to read his friend's guarded expression. It was thoughtful and… troubled. He said nothing as he followed Remus into the kitchen. The werewolf started the kettle and methodically set up two mugs for tea.

"Your dad?" James murmured. "Because if it is, you shouldn't try anything on your own-"

"Not my dad," Remus answered. James saw how it cost him to say this, and then continue with the rest of the report as if the lack of news weren't crushing him. "It's as we suspected. Voldemort has been disappearing at intervals, sometimes with other Death Eaters. He's checking where the horcruxes are hidden. None of his followers, including Snape, seem to know exactly what he is doing, but they can sense that he is angry and desperate. As far as Severus knows, only one of the items has been recovered."

"But there could be some we don't know about?"

"Yes," Remus sighed. "We're back to our problem of number. We have no clue how many Voldemort made. I guessed seven pieces, but I don't even know if he made it that far yet. If we don't destroy all of them before going after Voldemort…"

The somber silence following Remus' unfinished statement was loaded with possible consequences. Remus rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking almost as old as Dumbledore. The tea kettle whistled loudly and James stood to prepare their tea. Remus took his warm mug gratefully and stared out the window. They drank their tea quietly, waiting for dawn. It was not until the edge of the sky was turning pale green that Remus broke their vigil.

"James…he's going after another today. Severus had a location if we want to use it… we've never been there before."

"You're mentioning this now?" James asked incredulously.

"We need to be cautious, Prongs," Remus replied firmly. "Voldemort is bringing some followers with him and only a few beyond them were informed. If we interrupt it, we could compromise Severus' position as a spy."

James felt the beginnings of frustration. Why did Remus have to be so logical? But he had to admit, having Snape in the ranks was useful, whatever his motives. He raked his mind for some kind of compromise.

"What if we went and just… watched? Secretly, to be sure. We could use the invisibility cloak, disillusionment charms-"

"To be sure of what?"

"I don't know. Maybe we could see what it is. We could use that and the location to figure out if there are more and where they could be. And what they could be."

"And if we're caught?"

"Sirius will come too, at least there'll be three of us. Harry can go to school with Lily for the day."

"James, I don't think this is a good plan. There are too many things that could go wrong-"

"Just like every other plan we've had so far! And look at how much we've accomplished."

"So our odds of something going wrong are-"

"Less because of all the times we succeeded. Our odds are good, Moony!"

"I should have never taught you how to calculate probability…" Remus sighed. He stared down into his empty mug. James silently willed him to capitulate. He could not stand around waiting anymore. _Come on, Moony. We have to take this chance. We can't let this go on much longer_ …

Finally, Remus exhaled and said, "Fine. But at the first sign of trouble, we're leaving."

"Great!" James popped up from his seat. "I'll go let Padfoot and Lily know."

* * *

Later that day, they arrived on an expanse of knee-deep dead grass, which was perfect to hide their feet and ankles that the invisibility cloak could not cover. The wind swept harshly against them, devouring whatever body heat they had. James grasped the cloak to keep it from being wrenched from their heads. Through the translucent fabric, he struggled to get their bearings.

The sky that was visible through clouds was a misted blue. The air was also misty, and something stung James' nostrils as he breathed in. Salt. Seconds later, he recognized the rhythmic crashing of waves. To their right, the grassy expanse ended suddenly, and beyond the iron-gray sea met the sky. To their left was the small village of Conway-by-the-Sea, the location given to them by Snape.

"Why here?" Sirius muttered.

It was a valid question. James almost wondered if Snape got the location wrong. If he did, was it on purpose? Before James could voice his second thoughts, a group of seven figures appeared suddenly on the cliff. The sound of apparition was overwhelmed by the sea. Six were robed in black, but the seventh was bound hand and foot. James felt tension in the bony shoulder pressed against his.

"Oh my god…" Remus' voice was nearly a whimper. Then James recognized the bound figure.

"Bloody hell."

Remus took a step forward, but jerked to a stop when James grabbed his arm.

"Let me go, Prongs," Remus whispered dangerously.

"No, Moony, look."

Another figure had appeared. Voldemort. There was a perfunctory exchange, then without warning, Voldemort took hold of Lyall Lupin's arm. The pair dissolved into black smoke, which launched from the cliff and plummeted over the edge.

"No!" Remus' harsh gasp was cut off by Sirius clapping a hand over his mouth.

"Easy Moony," James heard Sirius' gentle whisper. "We're going to try and get closer. Let's not give them a reason to kill us before we can act."

The irony of Sirius telling Remus to think before he acted was not lost on James. But it was not at all funny. In fact, it injected a cool flood of disquiet in his veins. They needed Remus to be the level-headed one. They were so close together, that James could feel the miniature earthquake in Remus' left hand. James glanced over. The muscles around Remus' jaw were stiff, his brown eyes were dark, but he nodded.

With practiced ease, they snuck forward as a single unit, careful to keep the rustling of the grass to a minimum. Once they were close enough to hear the Death Eaters' conversation, they stopped.

"...don't know why he wants us here-"

"Shut up. Do not presume to question the Dark Lord's motives. Our duty is to serve." James felt his breakfast curdle in his stomach at Bellatrix's voice. Her wild, tangled hair spilling from her hood was obvious now that they were closer.

"The Dark Lord's instructions were clear." Snape's meticulous drawl. "We are to watch for anyone trying to hinder his mission."

"Whatever the 'ell that is," grumbled another. Amycus Carrow. His mask was off and James was pleased to see that his nose was crooked after their last encounter.

"The Dark Lord need not reveal his secrets to us," Snape replied.

"Wha's he doing down there anyway?"

"We do not know," sneered Bellatrix. "There's something hidden in the cave. Something precious to him."

Sirius and Remus both gasped. Belatedly, the confused riddles that Kreacher babbled in Grimmauld place came back to James.

" _There was a cave. Hidden, secret, dark. And evil water filled with dead things. Master took Kreacher there, to the island of poison."_

Remus' hand was trembling again. James swallowed. _This is where the locket was hidden._ So this mission was a failure… but it was far from over. A feeling of foreboding filled James. Far below their feet was the final resting place of Regulus Black. Next to Remus, Sirius had gone ominously still. Nelson's auror training was coming back to him: " _If you're too emotionally involved in a case, you're bound to make mistakes."_

This war was personal for all of them. But this… this was very close to home. And James knew that he could not ask them to leave yet. Perhaps Lyall Lupin would come out of the watery grave alive. Then there would be a decision to make…

They waited for a long time, salty gusts threatening to rip away the invisibility cloak at any moment. James was anxious, wondering what would happen next.

After what seemed like far too long for Lyall to have survived, the plume of darkness erupted from the sea and landed on the cliff. The Death Eaters, backed away a few steps. Black smoke unveiled Voldemort. And… _thank Merlin…_ Lyall collapsed at his feet. Something was very wrong. The older version of Remus was shivering violently. The skin of his face was nearly transparent and his eyes were wide and staring. Remus made a strangled sound in his throat, but stayed where he was.

Then James saw it. Clutched in the pale, spidery fingers was the false locket. It was open and an intricately folded piece of paper fluttered to the ground. Voldemort was radiating rage. The locket and the note disintegrated to dust in his hand, which blew away in the ocean wind.

For a moment, all movement and sound ceased. Even the wind died down and the ocean's thrashing lessened. James' inhaled…

Without warning, Voldemort's wand snapped outward. His face twisted into something nightmarish and Lyall cried out.

"I will kill him." Somehow, Voldemort's quiet threat could be heard over Lyall's pained cries, over the wind and the seagulls. It seemed to venomously thread its way into James' ears. Remus flinched. James could sense his life-hardened control failing. But Voldemort was not finished.

"Reveal yourself now, werewolf, or your father will die."

James' heart stuttered. _How could he know...?_ Something was very wrong. His mind supplied an automatic answer and he stared at Snape. But Snape' expression showed rare surprise. James could read it in the slightest raising of a brow, the widening of the dark eyes. And there was something else there… fear. _Is he faking it?_

"No need to hide. I know you're here with Potter and Black."

James could not think. He turned to Remus and Sirius and saw their panicked expressions staring back. Somehow, it steadied him. His thoughts unjammed. _We are Gryffindors. We can't run away._ They were outnumbered seven to three.

"Fine," said Voldemort. He lifted the cruciatus curse.

"I'll distract Voldemort," James whispered. "You two take the others…"

They nodded tightly.

"Avada-"

"We're here."

James whipped off the invisibility cloak. It shimmered like water as James tucked it away into his pocket. The snake-like face turned to them, a sinister smile curving across it.

"So you are," the Dark Lord replied. Then his red eyes hardened. "It seems I really do have a spy in my ranks. When Rabastan told me that you had taken the bait I did not want to believe it."

 _Wait… Rabastan? Took the bait?_

"I have suspected a traitor for a long time, now, of course. How… disappointing. The one I thought was among my most loyal…"

"Damn it," Remus cursed in a hushed voice. James could hear every emotion there, the fear for his father, the rising unease, the dismay.

Voldemort was raising his wand again, this time pointing it at one of his own. Snape's face was blank. Sirius acted so quickly, James did not even have time to react. The auror's wand surged forward. There was a shock-wave that rippled through the air, distorting it, then Snape was pushed sideways into his fellow Death Eaters, narrowly avoiding the dart of green death.

Sirius' spell was a catalyst. The air burst apart like a hurricane as spells were hurled between the opposing sides. Curses exploded around James feet as he sprinted into the fray. They needed to leave, quickly. Voldemort was his goal. The dark wizard brandished his wand and James dodged and blocked, getting closer, closer…

He met the red gaze. Hard triumph glittered there. Then the Dark Lord disappeared.

"NO!"

Remus.

James looked down and saw that Lyall had disappeared with Voldemort. _Damn it, damn it, damn it…_

James spun. The battle was fierce and dangerous. Sirius and Snape were on the defensive, the Death Eaters attacking with a furious storm. Remus was behind them, struggling to help, to recover himself. They could not fight this anymore. He rushed to Sirius' side.

"We need to go!"

He grabbed onto Sirius and Remus. He met Snape's eyes and said, "Meet you in Hogsmeade." Snape gave a jerky nod. James saw him fire one more spell before he turned, pulling his friends with him into the crushing tunnel to the bright, Hogsmeade street.

James did not even take time to catch his breath, whirling to check his companions. They were physically uninjured. Remus wrenched away and took a few steps, his back to them. He was shaking as he strained to restore some kind of rein on his emotions. James wished he would just let himself break.

Snape popped into existence, unhurt, his lips pressed in a thin line.

It was shockingly quiet here. James' breathing calmed, but his heart would not slow down. It pumped loudly in his ears. Every instinct was screaming at him, his intestines were twisting with dread.

Something was very, very wrong.

"It was a trap," Snape said in a monotone. "He knew I was the spy, he used me."

"Thanks for that, Captain Obvious," Sirius snapped. "But why were we necessary? He just left without doing anything!"

"Maybe he needed us out of the way..." James murmured, wrestling down the inexplicable terror.

"He mentioned Rabastan." Remus had returned to them. His face was white, but his voice was controlled. "I thought he was going to use him to try and get into Hogwarts, but why would he need us out of the way?"

And then something clicked.

"Oh god," James choked. There was a roaring in his ears. He did not feel his legs start running.

"James!"

He did not stop.

He did not even think.

Shops blurred into the dirt tunnel walls, then became stone. The hazy shapes of students rushed past him. He did not hear them protest as he pushed past. He felt the horrible deja-vu as he hurtled down into the dungeons. There were students gathered in the corridor, frozen in frightening silence. He skidded to a stop outside the open door to the Potions professor's office. Voices finally reached his brain.

"...a nasty bump on the head, but with some rest, she'll be fine."

"How could we have missed it?" McGonagall.

"Clive must have been imperiused for a some time, undetected." Flitwick. "He probably took her by surprise."

"Kaelie, move the students from the hallway, if you would…"

A woman with long auburn hair and professor's robes stepped into the corridor. She halted abruptly when she saw James.

"Mr. Potter," she said in surprise. Then, tremulously, "You should go inside."

James entered Lily's office. He found his wife immediately. She was on the ground, eyes closed. Madame Pomfrey was kneeling over her. Her long red hair was damp with blood.

"Lily," he whispered.

Every head turned to him, but he did not notice. He hurried and knelt down on the hard stones and debris of tossed books and the blown apart desk.

"James," said McGonagall. James did not look up. He ran his fingers over her still cheek, her silky hair. His hand was flaked with drying blood, but he hardly noticed.

"She'll be okay, James," Madame Pomfrey assured him. "She's just unconscious."

"What happened?" he demanded. "Where's Harry?"

"James," McGonagall said again. He ignored her, looking around the room. The professors stood around like statues amidst the destruction. In a shadowy corner stood Meg Hapley, her round face pale and tear-stained. There was no sign of his son.

"Where's Harry?" he repeated loudly. He needed Harry. Perhaps a student was watching him. Or another professor…

"James," McGonagall said a third time. Finally, he listened. The tall, stern woman was watching him with unusual compassion. And sadness. And fear. "Harry's gone."

James was confused. "What do you mean gone? Where'd he go?"

"He's gone James. Lily fought hard but… they took him."

And that was how James Potter shattered.

* * *

a/n: I'M SORRY!

I solemnly swear this is all part of my greater plan (it's not just for shock value... I hate it when people do that). Anyway, uh... Happy Father's Day?

I feel terrible for posting this on this day, but it was just the way it happened. I have a nicer story posted in honor of Father's Day in my fic, _Sons and Daughters_ , if you're interested (ch 4). Otherwise, I'll see you next time!

-Cat


	28. Interlude IV: The Becoming (Peter)

Thank you again to HermioneGranger519! You're the best! And thank you to all of my other reviewers as well! Also, shout out to all those who have followed and favorited this story. You make me happy too :)

Apologies again for leaving you hanging last chapter. Time to see what Peter is up to...

\- Cat

* * *

Chapter 28

 _Interlude IV: The Becoming (Peter)_

The Riddle House was filled with empty rooms and empty passages. The people there were empty too. It was dead inside.

Peter used to have a book on human anatomy. It was to help with his drawings, a distant memory now. Bone-structure, muscles, joints, and ligaments of the human body all in artistic symmetry. But right now, he was thinking very hard about the…what was that word? It was long and complex… cardiovascular. The cardiovascular system. The heart with its atriums, the arteries, the veins. Full. Blood pumping. _Lies. There can't be anything in my veins…_

How could Peter be full of blood if he knew he was dead inside? Dead like the Riddle House.

He had been wandering the halls of Hogwarts when he heard the impossible. Remus' voice was echoing towards him, feather-light, but steady. For a moment, he was convinced it was another ghost from his past, there to haunt him with the memory of friends. Because Remus Lupin was insane and it was Peter's fault. Yet there he was, speaking to James about Malfoy Manor. He was different. His hair was more gray than soft fawn. His face was lined and hollow and tired. His eyes somehow held…less than before. But he was Moony.

And there was James, who spared his life. Who grieved his absence. Who never thought he was nothing. And Lily, with her deep red hair and unfailing kindness. She held Harry, who slept peacefully against her shoulder.

In that moment, Peter understood just what he had lost. He did not even realize that he missed it, that he wanted it back. His old friends had moved on without him. _I will never have that again._

The death was quick. Not quite painless. He had hoped for them, until the feeling fled. And then he felt… _nothing_.

" _Don't you regret anything, Peter?"_ No. Regret requires some kind of life.

He reported to Malfoy immediately. He avoided the cellar where he knew Lyall Lupin was being kept. He did the Dark Lord's bidding. He spent his days as a rat, his nights staring blankly in an empty room in the dead Riddle House. And thought nothing. Felt nothing. Except his traitorous cardiovascular system pumping, pumping… always full.

Peter giggled aloud. His body thought his soul was still alive. It was hilarious. The empty room seemed to think so too, because it echoed the sound back at him.

Yes, he was as stark mad as Remus. Except Remus wasn't mad, he remembered.

"Pettigrew!"

 _Shut up_.

"What the hell are you doing in here? You're needed. Now."

 _Needed._ It used to be all he desired, to be relied on. It wasn't enough. He needed to be wanted. To be safe. To not be afraid.

Time passed. It didn't really matter how much. Peter was standing in the sitting room with the fireplace and the high-backed chair. The Dark Lord stood by the window.

"It seems," he said softly. "I was wrong about you, Pettigrew. There was a spy in our midst, one I knew of since the night the werewolf escaped. I thought it was you. I waited, patiently. You proved me wrong. It turns out to be Severus Snape."

The Dark Lord was unusually calm. Peter expected anger. But he stood still, contemplating the view outside the window, the graves sticking up from the earth. His reaction did not fit. Neither did Peter's. He should feel some kind of relief that the Dark Lord believed him to be loyal. Instead, he continued to feel the horrible nothingness.

"You have been very quiet lately, Wormtail," the Dark Lord continued with false concern. "Is something bothering you?"

"No, my lord."

Voldemort turned from the graveyard to look at Peter. _Is there a difference in the view, my lord?_ The corner of the bloodless lips twitched.

"You have a new duty Peter. You'll find it in the northwest corner bedroom on the third floor. I would kill him outright, but he may prove to be useful in… persuading our enemies to give up hope. You're to keep him quiet for now."

If Peter cared enough to ask what the Dark Lord meant, he would have. But he merely whispered, "Yes, my lord," and meekly bowed out of the room. He marched mechanically down the hallways of the mansion, past the ghostly draped furniture and cobweb covered lanterns. It was not until he was four doors away from the northwest bedroom that his numbed mind registered something…

The room was not empty. Or quiet. The sound was piercing, wrenching, and brutally familiar. But it did not belong in this dead place.

Peter's steps quickened, detached from his mind's lack of bidding. He made it to the door. Without even pausing to be afraid, he pushed it open. The room was clearly an old nursery, long unused by whoever occupied this manor last. The curtains were drawn, allowing only a haze of light to enter. Sheets covered most of the furniture like phantoms, except one piece. Peter focused on the dusty crib, where the only occupant of the room was.

His breath ceased.

Harry looked at him with wide green eyes from his blotchy, red face. His lower lip still trembled, but his desperate cries had stopped.

"Wormy," he whimpered. "Wan' mum an' da."

Peter stared at the child. The one who should be dead because of him. "M-mum and da can't come here, Harry," he whispered. Fat tears swam in those piercing emerald eyes. Harry blinked hard and they slipped down his cheeks.

Then… a miracle. His little hands reached out to Peter, small and desperate and innocently trusting.

Something stirred deep inside Peter's dead soul. It was a tiny movement, but it cascaded. The pain was so intense, Peter gasped. He grasped at his chest, but the pain growing into agony was not physical. It could not be eased. It licked at him like flames against ice. Molten metal filling his empty veins and arteries. Peter was captive in it, waiting for it to abate. It stayed constant and excruciating, so he breathed in shakily and stepped to the crib.

"Y-you don't w-want me," Peter told him, hating how difficult it was to speak. But Harry just strained against the crib's wooden rails, hands reaching. _If you knew what I've done…_ Finally, Peter relinquished.

Harry was heavier than he was the last time Peter held him. He clung onto Peter's Death Eater robes and buried his face in the dark fabric. The excruciation was increasing to something unbearable. Tears were on Peter's cheeks now too. And the pain did not stop.

" _Don't you regret anything, Peter?"_ Lily's voice repeated itself over and over again in his head.

* * *

Peter blamed it on luck that Voldemort glided into the mock-nursery when Harry was no longer in his arms and his face was dry. The mysterious pain throbbed in his limbs, but he was too petrified with fear to flinch. _Coward._ He kept his eyes on the ground. In his peripheral vision, Harry stirred, then started to whimper.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort whispered. "The child of the prophecy is now in my grasp."

Rabastan Lestrange entered behind the Dark Lord, his face in his usual stony mask, his eyes cold. Harry's lower lip was quivering. Even the veiled furniture seemed to be leaning away from the tall figure robed in shadow.

"Surely, the prophecy was wrong," Voldemort continued. His voice was high-pitched with derogatory condescension. "How can this pathetic little thing have power?"

From the depths of his dark sleeve, a long white finger reached out towards the boy pressed against the back of the crib. For a moment, Peter forgot his fear enough to twitch, instinct screaming at him to pull the baby away from the demon. But the iron paralysis of terror was renewed and held him in place. _Coward, coward…_ Voldemort's finger drew nearer. Harry was mute with fear, watching it with wide green eyes.

But as soon as the finger brushed the child's face, Voldemort snatched it back as though burned. Peter started where he stood. He caught a glimpse of the pallid flesh, pink and raised in a blister.

"What is this?" hissed the Dark Lord. Beneath the shadowy robe, he was coiled like a snake about to strike. Without warning, his wand snapped toward Harry. "Crucio!"

"M-my lord-" Peter stuttered before he could stop himself. Phantom pain lurched through his body.

But Harry just stared back into the merciless crimson eyes. Untouched. This was something bigger than luck.

Voldemort made a sound that made Peter want to run far away. Memory of his master's reaction after Remus' escape rose like bile.

"Impossible." Voldemort's denial was like needles in Peter's ears. And then the Dark Lord addressed him with venom. "Stop sniveling like a coward, Wormtail. You nearly ensured the brat's death months ago. Is your stomach too weak to witness what you've wrought?"

Peter quailed and tried to make himself small. "N-no, my lord."

The snake-like face narrowed in on Harry again. "I was wrong. Perhaps the boy does have power… Lestrange, get me Rookwood."

Without another word, Voldemort swept from the room, the door slamming behind him and Lestrange. The walls shuddered, shaking dust into the air like specters. Finally, Harry let out a long wail. It demanded something… comfort.

But Peter was frozen. _This is what you've wrought._

With sudden certainty, Peter could name the agonizing pain in his soul. Remorse. And with it, his soul could feel again. He could feel the paralyzing fear of being trapped in this dead place. Of Harry being trapped in this dead place. He needed to do something-

But he couldn't…

" _Go away," whispered Remus. His lips were chapped and bloody. Throat was raw from screaming. "I-I can't," Peter responded, wishing he could. "He'll kill me."_

 _Coward._ His heart was constricting. The atriums were emptying faster and faster. Bitter adrenaline stung his tongue. _I can't go back…_ He broke the Marauders. They would never be whole again.

" _Come on, Pete, let's try again." Remus encouraged him, holding a sky-blue feather between his thumb and forefinger…_

"I-it's okay, Harry," he said, faltering over the near-forgotten words. "It's okay." He forced his feet to move, taking leaden steps to the crying son of his friend.

" _You were our brother… You were not nothing to me."_

Peter lifted Harry and held him close, hating how hard he was trembling. His hands were clammy with nervous sweat. He couldn't go back. But he also couldn't- _couldn't_ -let the Dark Lord try and harm Harry again. He had already failed him too many times.

 _Sirius grasped his hand._

What should he do now?

" _We solemnly swear that we will be bound as brothers until the end."_

 _What do I do?_

* * *

a/n: So...

Did you see that coming?

This storyline for Pete is basically extrapolated from his final moment in the books, when he regrets hurting for a infinitesimally small moment, which ultimately leads to his death. I said at the beginning of this tale that I find Peter's character an interesting one. He is very, painfully human. And very, painfully relatable in many cases. I will say that finding his humanity was not as hard as I expected, especially since I allowed the other Marauders to survive. Seeing him from the eyes of his friends, both in flashbacks and in the present really helped.

(Explanation for Chapter Title: From the quote, "It hurts to become," by a poet named Andrea Gibson. Also, from what Hermione Granger said about putting one's soul back together after splitting it to create horcruxes. I combined the pain of remorse with the pain of finding oneself through suffering. In Peter's case, the death of his self through betraying his friends.)

I'm very interested to hear your thoughts, whether similar or different from mine!

IMPORTANT A/N: Remember when I said I'd warn you if it would be some time before my next update? Well, I'm going to be out of town for the next week with little to no time to write or post anything. Next update will hopefully be either next Thursday or Friday (6/29 or 6/30), so about a week from now. I promise we'll return to see what James, Sirius, Remus, and Lily are doing at that time. Adios, until then!


	29. The Island of Fire (Sirius)

I'm back! New York City was wonderful (You can know where I was now that I'm not there anymore ;)). Those of you who live there, I love your city and had a great time exploring!

Thank you for your reviews, they warmed my heart (to the Guest asking if I'm doing something like the Dark Price series, I have no idea since I've never read it. I hope not...I want to be somewhat original :)). I know you've been patiently waiting for this update, so I will not delay any longer.

\- Cat

* * *

Chapter 29

 _The Island of Fire (Sirius)_

 _They found James in the hospital wing. The peculiarity of Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Severus Snape walking in together without any tension had lost its meaning. Because James looked so, so young…_

Sirius grit his teeth. Furious energy built up and he fired a blasting spell at a nearby rock. It exploded into shrapnel. Seagulls wheeled over his head, shrieking insults.

" _They took Harry, Padfoot. I don't… I don't know what to do…" Broken voice._

Île de Nuit. A fitting name. It was unplottable, a tiny dot near the Faroe Islands invisible to muggles. It had been in the Black family for years, almost forgotten except in dusty records found for him by Kreacher. Sirius' angry blue eyes scraped across the vibrant green heathland and volcanic rocks. A towering pile of desolate nothing in the vast sea. Isolated blackness. Perfect for practicing dark spells.

Or venting the pain of losing something precious.

Sirius blasted another rock into smithereens. Somehow, this was his fault.

" _This is your fault!" Sirius lunged at his childhood enemy. Snape reeled backwards, startled, his gaze drawn away from Lily lying in a hospital bed._

" _Padfoot, enough!" Remus appeared in his way, blocking Snape. Brown eyes dark. "This will not solve anything-"_

" _He did this!" Sirius yelled. James was hunched over, Snape was saying nothing. This just fueled the rage, the pain…_

Destroying rocks was no longer enough. Sirius screamed up at the sky, so hard his voice cracked and fire seared his throat. Fire…

 _Remus grabbed his arms and pushed him strongly backwards, away from Snape, away from James._

" _Go and cool off," he instructed. His voice was firm, almost cold. But Sirius could see the empathy in his eyes. The desire to rage and rant and hurt. Remus was stronger though, controlled. Behind him, Lily was stirring…_

" _Go, Padfoot."_

 _Sirius spun and left…_

Shame dampened Sirius' anger. Shame and guilt. Sirius collapsed to the soft ground and studied his island. It was scarred with scorch marks. Some from today, others from the difficult practice with the dark spell.

Fiendfyre.

It was harder than Sirius had imagined. A wizard could actually cast the spell and direct it, with a great deal of concentration and difficulty. And surrendering a piece of your humanity. Sirius knew the consequences of dark magic intimately. To wield it meant letting the whispering demons win, the voices that bent one's soul to evil choices. It was magic that was the opposite of goodness.

" _You have to mean it, Sirius."_ He shook Bellatrix's voice out of his head. _A dog writhed beneath her wand, tortured in silence._ Sirius swallowed.

He never wanted this.

He hated that part of himself. The one that cheered at destruction, that wanted to rip his conscience part. His whole life had been spent rebelling against his darker influences and now… Now he was practicing dark magic.

But this was for something bigger.

He had yet to master Fiendfyre. Often he needed to stop the spell before it bounded across the waters to the muggle inhabitations nearby. He knew if he tried now, he would lose control of it, so he stayed where he was. Dark magic fed on guilt and anger like it was petrol. And these were two things that Sirius could not let go easily. Especially now.

He broke his promise as a friend, as a godfather. He couldn't protect Harry. He could not even be there for James.

"Cessare facium ex igne demonum," he whispered to himself. Before, the repetition was to memorize the incantation to dispel Fiendfyre. But today, it was to dispel his own intractable emotions. "Cessare facium ex igne demonum."

Curiously enough, it seemed to be working. Sirius repeated it until he had control of his breathing and control of his racing thoughts. A frigid calm stole over him. Someone needed to be in charge. The auror department no longer existed. But Sirius was still here.

He stood, wiping the moisture and dirt from his cloak. He breathed in deeply, then let it out in a long exhale. _We're coming for you, Harry._

* * *

Sirius took long strides through the grounds of Hogwarts. He passed groups of students, which emanated strained laughter or whispered conversation. He grimaced. The last safe place for muggle-borns and blood-traitors had been severely handicapped when Dumbledore was struck down. And now the Death Eaters had proven its defenses permeable.

By now, Sirius was easily recognized as one of the remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix. Stares followed him all the way to the entrance of the hospital wing. Before he reached the door, Remus stepped out, looking worn. A few students recognized the werewolf as well. Instead of stares, they scurried away down the corridors. Sirius huffed in irritation, but Remus expertly ignored their reactions.

"You good?" he asked Sirius. A single eyebrow was raised.

"Yeah," Sirius replied. "Sorry."

"No need to apologize," Remus said with a tired wave of his hand. "You're needed inside."

"I know. Do you know who found Lily?"

"Meg Hapley, Nelson's daughter."

"Okay. I want to talk to her later."

"Ask Minerva. Are you sure you're okay?" Remus' eyes narrowed.

"Not okay, but I've pulled myself together," Sirius responded honestly. He tried very hard not to think about how Harry was. "You?"

"Fine." Remus looked away, clearly not liking the attention being turned to him.

"Moony. Your dad…"

Remus' shoulders sagged. "We were so close…" he murmured. He blinked hard. Sirius could see his left fist clench.

"Moony…"

"I just need a moment, Padfoot," he said steadily. "James and Lily need you. I'll see you at home."

Sirius watched forlornly as Remus stepped around him and disappeared around a corner. Then he steeled himself and entered the hospital wing. Lily and James were on a hospital bed by the window, leaning into each other. Lily's head was against James' chest, her bright red hair spilling out of a white bandage around her head. She looked up through dull green eyes as Sirius quietly tilted his head in question. He was loathe to disturb their intimate grief. But she gave him an imperceptible nod, so he made his way down the aisle. James' face was buried in her shoulder, his face invisible. Neither moved until Sirius sat in a chair by the bed.

"I'm sorry," Sirius said hoarsely. "I shouldn't have yelled."

"It's okay, Sirius," Lily responded. Her voice was shaky.

"Do you…" he hesitated, glancing at the head of messy ebony hair. "Do you mind telling me what happened?"

James straightened immediately, his hazel eyes enraged. "Padfoot," he warned.

"No, James, it's okay," Lily soothed. "He's putting the details together. He needs to figure out a first step. Right Sirius?"

Sirius nodded mutely. James' glare was blistering his skin.

"He just wants to find Harry," Lily said softly. She inhaled deeply and leaned against the pillows. Sirius waited. After several minutes, she started speaking again. "I had just finished with my fourth years. Harry had charmed them completely." She chuckled weakly. "It was sweet." Then her expression became somber.

"I had a free period, so Harry and I went back to my office. We were only there for maybe two minutes when-when someone knocked. I-I thought it was a student. They know when I'm free and sometimes they come for help. B-but it was Professor Camduin."

"Camduin?" Sirius asked.

"Clive. He teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts. He was pretty timid, so I was surprised that he was taking an initiative to visit. But then… then there was another person with him… a Death Eater, I think… he was masked. Camduin must have gotten him past the wards." Sirius made a mental note to talk to McGonagall about increasing security.

"We fought. I tried to tell Harry to get out, but he was crying, he didn't understand-" Her voice hitched. James' face was drained of color.

"Th-they blew apart the desk and I h-hit my h-head. It went dark…" A solitary tear was sliding down her face.

"It's okay, Lils," James murmured. He pulled her closer. "You did everything you could."

But Sirius immediately knew that Lily would not believe that. James' looked up at Sirius, his glare becoming a helpless plea. Sirius wished there was something he could say, but his mind was blank. Guilt not something he handled well in the first place.

"Has Madame Pomfrey cleared you to leave?" Sirius asked Lily. She nodded, more tears glittering on her eyelashes. But they did not fall. He glanced at James, whose eyes were suspiciously red-rimmed. "Okay. James and I are going to take you home. And all of us are going to do everything we can to get Harry back. Got it?"

Sirius was speaking as much to James as to Lily, trying to sound convincing. It was hard. He was so tired and strung out he wanted to throw up, even though his stomach was empty.

When they entered the cottage, Sirius felt a wave of dizziness which was probably nothing compared to what James and Lily felt. The living room was dark. The house's soul was missing. Lily went straight to the kitchen where Sirius knew the clock was showing Harry in Mortal Peril. James watched her go, his arms limp at his sides.

"James-"

"Please tell me you have a plan," James said desperately, his head snapping to him.

Sirius wished he could say anything other than, "Working on one." Because he could not lie to his best friend.

James exhaled loudly and made for the front door.

"Wait, James, stop!"

James didn't.

"Prongs!" Sirius caught up with him in the front yard and grabbed his arm. James whirled and wrenched his arm away. His eyes were wild and his body was trembling with tension.

"I have to find him, Pads; I _need_ to find him now!"

"Where are you going to go?" Sirius demanded, letting his angry energy drive him. "You don't even know where Voldemort is right now!"

"I'll follow someone from the Ministry! I'll ask Snape! It doesn't matter!"

"It does matter!" Sirius shouted. "Because when your stupidity kills you, who will take care of Lily?! And Harry?!"

"You and Moony will!" James roared back.

"And what, you're okay with just leaving us alone?!"

"No I- _Argh!_ " James grabbed his hair in anguish. His chest was heaving up and down in the dying sun. And just like that, all of the energy drained away from Sirius. Harry was missing and all they could do is shout at each other in the front yard. It was pathetic.

"James," he said softly. "We're going to get him back." James' hands dropped to his sides. Then his whole body dropped to the ground. He pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. Sirius sat down next to him, feeling the cold ground through his robes. The sun descended behind the trees and the temperature dropped, but Sirius barely felt it. Soon everything was cast in blue.

"Where did Moony go?" James whispered.

"I don't know," Sirius replied quietly. "He said he needed some space."

"Oh Merlin, his dad…" James moaned. "It all made me forget…"

"Moony understands that."

"Does he?"

"He does," Sirius said firmly. But now a different worry was breaking through his frantic worry for Harry. Why wasn't Remus here? But just as the thought crossed his mind, Remus appeared with a crack at the front gate. He looked as spent as Sirius felt. Slowly, without noticing James and Sirius, he unlatched the gate and let himself into the bounds of the Fidelius Charm.

"Hey Moony," James said hoarsely. Remus startled, his eyes snapping from his feet to James.

"Hey," he replied. "Everything okay? Well, not okay, but are you-"

"It's fine, Remus," James murmured, cutting off Remus' rambling.

"Where have you been?" Sirius asked, allowing some annoyance to color his voice.

"Sorry, I… I had to check something," Remus said. His eyes trailed away from them and he shoved his hands into his pockets. Sirius' eyes narrowed.

"What was it?"

Remus kept his gaze fixed on the clump of grass near his shoe as he drew one hand from a pocket. With it came the liquidy folds of the invisibility cloak. Sirius' eyebrows raised in surprise.

"How did you-"

"I swiped it. Sorry, James, you were distracted and… I needed it."

"Remus," Sirius sighed, wishing their reclusive friend would be more straightforward.

"I went to Little Hangleton," the werewolf blurted. James and Sirius both stared in shock. Remus used their gaping silence to ramble nervously. "Voldemort has been staying on the outskirts of the town. D-Dumbledore mentioned it when we found the ring… I didn't bring up because… I thought you might do something rash. Then I did something rash."

"You didn't-"

"I did," Remus admitted. He kicked at the clump of grass. "I didn't go too close, but-"

"You shouldn't have gone alone!" Sirius burst out. He waited for James to back him up, but James simply continued to stare with a blank face. Struggling to rein in his wild emotions, Sirius attempted to speak calmly. "You couldn't have been killed or… or something. And we would've had no idea what had happened! What were you thinking?!" No, remaining calm was barely an option after today.

"I was thinking that I wanted to find Harry," Remus explained curtly.

"Did you?" James asked in a strangled voice.

"I don't know." It was hard to tell in the fading light, but Remus' amber eyes were dark with apology. But also fierce determination. "I think he is, but I could only get so close. The warding is… heavy." There was something in Remus' expression that closed as he said this.

"Take me there." James was standing now. Sirius exchanged a glance with Remus.

"James, we should make some kind of plan before we go barging in," Remus suggested gently. "We need to talk to Snape, see what he knows."

"Take me there now, Moony." The breakage in James' voice was like a reflection of Sirius' emotional state. But Remus was right.

"James, we need to tell Lily, too. She has to come. Besides, if we make any mistakes because of haste, we'll just endanger Harry further." Tentatively, Sirius gripped James' shoulder. He could feel the hard tension there. After a few moments, James relinquished and allowed Sirius to guide him back down the front pathway and through the open door. Behind them, Remus followed, his steps heavy and his head low.

* * *

Sirius hated the stagnant waiting. They'd planned and argued all night until they finally had something workable, but it depended on stealth. They would not be leaving until it was dark again. He paced, his sleeves singed, frustration growing like a maddening itch.

"Incendio diaboli!" he hissed.

A white hot chimera careened across Île de Nuit, roaring in fury, a reflection of Sirius' own soul. It was trapped, encased by plains of water. It reared up, incensed by the cage and turned on Sirius.

"Cessare facium ex igne demonum!" Sirius shouted, panicked. The chimera imploded into heavy, black smoke and sparks, leaving Sirius coughing and sputtering.

"Argh! _Come on_!" he yelled.

 _Useless,_ the chimera's ashy ghost hissed. _You will fail them_ …

Sirius whirled away, growling, choking down the hard rock in his throat. He wanted... he _needed_ to finish this. To get it right. But it was time to meet with Mad-Eye and the Longbottoms.

 _You will fail them…_

The voice whispered maliciously on the wind as he apparated away.

* * *

Sirius instantly regretted instructing Mad-Eye and the Longbottoms to meet him in Dumbledore's quarters when he saw the hooked nose of Snivellus Snape. The desperate monster in his chest immediately bristled at the sound of the monotonous drawl as the man spoke to Madame Pomfrey.

"...He's essentially trapped behind his shields, re-living whatever memories or nightmares the Dark Lord devised. Meanwhile, his organs are failing him. It won't be long before he does not have the physical strength to wake himself. It's an elegant way to torture someone, obviously devised for Lupin, but still doing its job in this case."

"Elegant," Sirius repeated, disgusted by the choice of words. Pomfrey whirled, seeing him for the first time. Snape made no sign of being startled. He simply switched his gaze from where Dumbledore lay pale against the pillows to Sirius.

"What are you doing here, Black?" he asked with a small sneer. "I thought that you were too emotionally stunted to handle any of this?"

The monster growled, boiling Sirius' blood. _You will fail them…_ The only thing keeping his itching fingers from whipping out his wand was the plan. The plan to get Harry.

"At least," Sirius grit out. "I care about Harry. You don't, do you?" Snape's eyes narrowed, but he did not deny it. This fueled Sirius' rage, but he managed to keep his voice level. "In fact, as I think back over the last few months, you've only given us half the information we need. So you've helped us some, but your loyalty is weak, Snivellus. You serve whatever side is convenient for you."

"You think this is convenient?" Snape hissed, taking a threatening step forward. Madame Pomfrey was watching the two of them with wide eyes. "I've risked everything, and now I've been exposed as a spy to the Dark Lord because of your carelessness. You are as arrogant as Potter, Black. I am not _serving_ you. As to why I agreed to spy, it is none of your business."

"It is if it means I could trust your word."

"As amusing as that sentiment is, I find it hard to believe that the man who doubts his own friends could trust me," Snape said with a satisfied smirk as Sirius' blood drained from his face.

" _Don't you dare_ -"

"That is enough, both of you," Madame Pomfrey interrupted with a high-pitched voice. She had stepped away from Dumbledore's bedside and shoved herself between Sirius and Snape.

At that moment, the door opened and Mad-Eye growled, "What is going on here?"

"Nothing," Snape drawled, his black eyes fixed on Sirius. "I was just on my way out."

As Snape swept around Sirius towards the door, a voice that sounded like Remus' was echoing in his head, saying, " _Don't rise, Sirius. Let him go."_

Mad-Eye's electric blue eye rolled in the socket, following the sallow wizard's progress away from the room. His other eye stared at Dumbledore. The crimson sheets around him only accentuated the purple bruising underneath his eyes and the sunken shadows of his cheeks. As Sirius' anger waned, the defeated aura of the room became much more acute.

"Sirius," Mad-Eye murmured, unusually gently. Harry's kidnapping hung in the air like dying. He stumped towards Sirius. "You smell like smoke."

Sirius ignored the comment. "Good to see you, Mad-Eye."

Mad-Eye sniffed. "Message from Arthur, if you're willing to hear it."

"Sure," Sirius said with a weary wave of his hand.

"Large announcement at the Ministry today, made by Rookwood. Voldemort is threatening to kill the child unless you return what belongs to him. You have until tomorrow."

Sirius appreciated the old auror's blunt delivery, despite the painful blow to his stomach. Unable to speak right away, he bobbed his head up and down once in understanding.

"You know what he wants?"

"He… he can't have them," Sirius stuttered. It did not come out as strong as he would have liked. Surrendering the horcruxes would be signing away the freedom of the wizarding world. But Harry…

Mad-Eye glared at him suspiciously. "You wanted to discuss something?"

"Yes, I-"

The door swung open again, and the Longbottoms entered. Sirius' heart constricted when he saw Neville, who was held tightly in Alice's arms. For a moment, Sirius completely forgot why he was here. He was wasting time, they needed to be storming the Riddle House now-

"Sirius. What were you going to tell us?" Alice asked. Her voice was strong and soft, grounding him again.

"We-we're getting Harry tonight." The craggy face of Moody registered nothing, but Frank stiffened. Alice's eyes were watery and she held Neville even tighter. "It will be precarious. Remus, James, Lily, and I will be going. If we're successful, we believe that Voldemort will probably retaliate immediately. If we don't succeed…"

"You'll be dead," Mad-Eye stated. Both of his eyes honed in on Sirius. Frank and Alice were silent.

"Right," Sirius said uncomfortably. "Er…" He glanced at Madame Pomfrey, who was puttering about, clearly looking for an excuse to stay and listen.

"I believe Sirius would like this discussion to be private, Madame," Mad-Eye announced bluntly, without looking away. "Apologies."

Pomfrey huffed and bustled out of the room, giving Sirius the same look that always made him cringe internally, as if he was being unnecessarily loud. The door snapped shut behind her and they were left alone with their fallen leader, daylight filtering across the floor.

"If we do end up dead, there's something you need to take care of," Sirius said right away. "Dumbledore knew-knows about it. And McGonagall. But just in case…" _In case Dumbledore doesn't wake up._ "There's a way to defeat Voldemort."

Of course there was a way. But in these days of dying hope, having those words said out loud lightened the shoulders of Sirius' company.

"How?" Frank demanded.

"There are these… vessels made to hold pieces of one's soul with dark magic. Voldemort concealed a piece of his soul inside each one. He cannot die as long as they exist. They're called-"

"Horcruxes," Mad-Eye finished dourly. "That's what he wants from you."

"Yeah."

Alice and Frank were pale.

"We have four in our cellar, in the trunk you lent us, Mad-Eye. We know of at least one more, probably being kept close to Voldemort." Sirius looked at Mad-Eye significantly. "He knows we're hunting them."

"What is the last one?" Alice asked.

"We're not entirely sure, but it might relate to Hufflepuff somehow."

"Hufflepuff?" Frank repeated, stunned.

"Riddle seemed to be very interested in the Founders," Sirius shrugged. "There could be more besides that one. We were thinking that he would want to split his soul into seven pieces, but we can't tell how far he's gotten. It seems that he only made the five, but there's no way to be sure…" Sirius rubbed the bridge of his nose. Voldemort had made no more unprecedented visits to odd locations, but that did not mean they had not missed one.

"There's a lot of uncertainty about this," Mad-Eye growled.

"I know," Sirius sighed. "But it's the best we've got. Destroying them is going to be even harder." He went on to explain methods that they'd researched. He also made sure that the Longbottoms and Mad-Eye knew where their extensive notes were collected. A few times Frank cut in and asked how they knew all of this in the first place, but Sirius was purposely vague, trying to keep Remus' harrowing experience and torture private. When he finally finished, Alice smiled weakly.

"You make it sound like this could be it," she said. Sirius did not miss the sparkle of hope in her wide brown eyes.

"Maybe it is," Sirius answered somberly. He glanced around to the bed. _Please Merlin, let it be. We've lost too much_.

"I brought my cloak," Mad-Eye said gruffly. He pulled his own invisibility cloak from the folds of his leather jacket. It shimmered in the sunlight.

"Thanks," Sirius murmured, taking the liquid fabric. "I hope you don't mind us using it tonight. You might not get it back."

"The Potter boy is worth much more than my cloak," Mad-Eye stated easily.

Sirius nodded, pressing his lips together. Mad-Eye held out his hand, and Sirius shook it firmly. He did the same to Frank and kissed Alice on the cheek.

"Good luck," she said.

"See you tomorrow," Sirius answered, praying that would be true. He exited through the Headmaster's office, which was filled with spinning and ticking instruments. Otherwise, the office was empty, the great chair, vacant. Sirius was suddenly struck with a desperate wish that Professor McGonagall was there. Her stern, unwavering presence would be comforting. But she was busy with her duties as Deputy Headmistress.

The cottage was hauntingly quiet and dark when Sirius arrived through the floo network. Once the plans had been finalized, Lily and James had disappeared to the upper floor together. Sirius and Remus had been loathe to disturb them, so they kept to their own rooms. Outside, the sun was setting, turning the sky red. The light bled into the rooms, guiding Sirius into the kitchen.

That was when he noticed that the heavy oak door to the cellar was open. Alarm bells rang in his head and he stepped quietly towards the dark mouth, drawing his wand. Not a sound came from down the stairs.

"Hello?" he whisper-called.

"It's just me, Padfoot," replied Remus' voice.

Sirius' entire body relaxed. "Lumos." His wand tip ignited with bright white light and he descended the stairs. Remus was standing with his hands at his sides, gazing at the trunk.

"You okay?" Sirius asked.

"I'm okay. You?"

"Peachy."

Sirius' eyes were drawn to the trunk as well. It was amazing how something so innocuous could conceal something so evil.

"Do the Longbottoms and Mad-Eye know?"

"Yeah. Here's his cloak, by the way."

Remus took the bunched cloak and methodically shook it out. Then, with slow care, he folded it and tucked it into an inner pocket in the lining of his own cloak. There was something very… deliberate in the way he was moving, as if he were savoring it.

"I told Alice this could be it. The endgame," Sirius said carefully. "Do you think it is?"

"It could be," Remus answered. In the wandlight, his face was deeply shadowed. "We're getting closer."

"We are. And tomorrow we'll have Harry back. And maybe even the fifth horcrux. We could win this."

"Yeah." Remus looked so gloomy as he stared at the trunk that Sirius was overcome by the need to give him something bigger to hold on to.

"I… I've been practicing fiendfyre," Sirius admitted. That got Remus' attention. He finally met Sirius' eyes.

"You have?"

"I borrowed some books from my dear mother, courtesy of Kreacher. Turns out he can be useful."

"You can destroy them?"

"I can almost control it… I'm nearly there."

And surrendering his hard-won moral ground to the dark arts was completely worth seeing some of the tension leave Remus' shoulders.

* * *

When Sirius returned to Île de Nuit to practice until sundown, it was with cold assurance. This was going to end. He would not fail again.

"Incendio diaboli," Sirius enunciated, digging deep into the side of himself he wished did not exist. Then, he accepted it.

He flicked his wand downwards and from it burst a flaming dragon, its wingspan the length of the Great Hall. The blazing beast's wings pulled down, and it was lifted into the air, blasting the island with a fiery hot gale that whipped Sirius' hair around his face. The fiend bent to his will and soared around Île de Nuit, wingtip grazing the ocean. The waves evaporated into hissing steam, which engulfed the isle in mist.

On the horizon, the light was drowning in a bloody sea. Shadow rolled over Sirius. But the flaming fiend wended like a torch, igniting the isle of night, turning it into the sun. His island was a solitary star in the lightless ocean.

It was nearly time.

A slow grin spread across Sirius' face that had nothing to do with happiness.

* * *

a/n: I know, I know, Harry is still kidnapped. I guess you'll have to wait for the next update to find out what happens next...

As I said before, I hope I did not butcher any languages. If I did, feel free to correct me.

Again, thank you for your support, all my reviewers, followers, and... favoriters? Love you guys. Also, 99 reviews! Who will launch me into triple digits...?


	30. Fought with Frail Moorings (Remus)

Happy 4th! Thank you again to my reviewers, you inspire me to not get writer's block (or I guess fight it when I do...because that happens a lot) :)

\- Cat

* * *

Chapter 30

 _Fought with Frail Moorings (Remus)_

The village of Little Hangleton lay sleeping beneath the wide black sky. There were no stars tonight. The clouds were so thick that even the waning moonlight did not reach the earth. Though almost blind, Remus could smell the biting dryness like smoke lying heavily on the air. He could hear that stillness of a held breath. Tomorrow, the rooftops would be dusted with gray flurries.

He had brought James, Sirius, and Lily to the abandoned Gaunt shack. He tried not to imagine the broken down rooms riddled with boggarts, all rocking back and forth with madness. Remus himself started shivering uncontrollably a few minutes after they arrived. It had nothing to do with the cold or the boggarts. It had everything to do with the task ahead of him. The one he kept secret from his companions.

Sirius' shoulder pressed against his. Remus could feel the concerned blue eyes flicking towards his shadow, but he chose to ignore them. He lead them in a large circle around the outskirts of the village, through tangled forest and farmland. The journey was all uphill and by the time the Riddle House came into view, all four of them were trying to keep their huffing breath quiet. Over a low wall of tumbled stones that looked like a lumpy obsidian serpent in the night, the graves were like hunched beasts. The mansion was a cavernous hole in the sky that touched the hilltop. The feeling flooding Remus was eerily similar to the night they broke into Malfoy Manor. Only the stakes were higher here.

They crouched in a thick grove of elm trees and spindly honeysuckle. Remus turned and conjured a tiny blue flame in his hand, just enough to shed spooky light on everyone's faces.

"Sirius and Lily will stay here. If you notice anything, or we need help fighting our way out, it will be up to you. The wards start at the edge of the wall, so stay back at least three or four meters. They will be deadly if crossed without removing them."

He held the flame long enough to see all three of them nod. It had been decided earlier that Remus and James would be the only ones to enter the house. Both of them had someone possibly trapped inside, Lyall and baby Harry. With just two, stealth would be easier. And if for some reason things went wrong and they did not make it out… at least Harry would still have one parent to fight for him.

"Good luck. Don't die," Sirius whispered into the renewed darkness.

"You too," James replied. His hand was very warm when it landed on Remus' shaking arm. "Let's go, Moony."

They crept warily from the undergrowth and waded through dead grass to their shins. The closer they got to the wards, the sicker Remus felt. His thoughts began to swim, but he held it in a vice-like grip. About three meters away from the wall, his feet stopped.

"Here," he gasped. " _Crucio."_ Voldemort was flashing in and out of his vision, his snake-like features overlaid upon the mansion in the sky. From far away, James was saying, " _Did you like question ten, Moony?"_

"Remus, are you okay?" the real, present James asked softly.

"Fine," was all he could manage while he tried to compose himself. _His mother's hands were clasped around a single white seashell, her face was sunken and empty. The coffin lid lowered-_

"I could try the wards-"

"No," Remus said firmly, James' suggestion snapping him back to the present. "I'll do it, James."

James' silhouette moved into his vision. "Are you going to tell me what's been bothering you?"

"Nothing."

"Remus, I may be distracted, but you've been very reserved about this part of the plan."

Remus relented. He could only fight so many battles at once. "All magic leaves traces," he said. His breath was coming in shaky puffs. "People have signatures. He knew… he knew it was me who broke through the wards at Malfoy Manor. He will not make this easy."

James was quiet and Remus knew he needed to continue.

"When I came here the first time, I noticed that the wards on this place are designed a specific way. They'll be… hard to break."

"Okay." James sounded hesitant. Remus knew he had done a poor job of explaining, but that was all he could manage. The truth was, he had tried the wards when he came the day Harry disappeared. Only a few layers in, he made a discovery that was now making his hands shake so violently. Breaking these wards would require unraveling what he had spent so many agonizing months rebuilding.

His heart fluttering, Remus knelt in the cold grass and closed his eyes. The curse that Voldemort had placed around the Riddle House was sweep away one's identity, destroy any memory or experience until there was nothing left. Remus would have to let them go on his own terms before starting.

He did not think it would be hard. He'd felt unmoored from himself every since Voldemort had broken him loose the first time. And below it all, Remus could feel the velvety darkness of the void. This was where he would go. The one thing that haunted him since Halloween was now his only defense. If he was there, Voldemort's curse could not touch him. _But how will I come back?_

" _We solemnly swear that we will be bound as brothers until the end."_

 _I can't do this alone,_ he realized. Sirius' voice calling his name echoed through his head. So he made a decision.

"Can you feel the wards?" he murmured to James, already allowing his magic to see for him. The steady sunlight of James' magic was overcast with fear, but Remus felt the shift as James reached out.

"Yes," James replied. _Good_ , Remus thought.

"Can you feel my magic?"

James paused. The gray sunlight trickled towards Remus. Remus could sense how tentative it was, so unlike the confidence James usually displayed. His friends had always respected his private self.

"I… I can feel it," James answered. His voice was slightly strangled, but steady. Remus' heart calmed, reassured.

"When I've broken through, the window will stay open for as long as I can hold it. You'll need to get me through with you."

"Okay. Then?"

 _Then you need to bring me back._ The way James' magic tensed told Remus that he had understood.

 _If I can't?_

Remus paused. Healing mental wounds had only gotten him so far. He remembered wondering if his mind was on a time-delay, preparing to detonate. He thought about the boggarts in the Gaunt shack, insane and unreachable. Shaking breath. Today would be a good day for his mind to explode if it meant rescuing Harry.

 _Leave me. Harry is the priority._

If James responded, Remus did not hear. He inhaled and dove deep into his head, through familiar doors and passages. The void rose up once more; the span of dark water was an undisturbed mirror. Everything he had painstakingly repaired fell away like sand. It was frighteningly easy, to let it all go. Months of careful control were gone in the blink of an eye.

And then the mind was desolate.

Remus was gone.

The mind was Alone.

The consciousness there was unusual, for it had two natures, a man and a wolf entangled. The substance that was man stood in the vast and silent vessel, awed by its loneliness. Time did not exist here, but if it did, it was a long while before the man realized he was not completely abandoned. A needle thin beam of faded sunlight was warm on his back. And in is palm was something hard and ridged.

He held it to his ear. Inside was a heartbeat of something enormous, something that roared and crashed in storms. And whispered gentle calm of a long memory.

 _The seashell was placed on the ground. And very softly, it was said, "Good-bye. I'll miss you."_

"I'll be back."

Dissociated, the man lowered himself onto the shore next to the seashell, conscious of nothing but the inviting Lethe rippling ahead. And a mission. There was something he had to do.

 _Now,_ he whispered to the beam of sunlight.

He took the final step.

Immediately, he forgot the sun and the seashell. The fabric of the ward turned on him, boiling over him, burning like strong acid. If he could have gasped, he would have, but his lungs were concrete and his mouth was ash. A terrible force was trying to rip him away.

Grimly, the man pushed forward. But there was nothing he could do. But a wilder nature was waiting, pushing to be free. It was ready. So the man set it loose.

It was the wolf that tore apart the dark barrier. And it was the wolf that held back the tattered shreds. The man waited in the dark water until it was done.

 _Come back._

The voice belonged to neither the man nor the wolf, but to the fading sun. The wolf returned to the man, its paws rippling across the mirrored surface.

 _Come back._

They ignored the voice for a time. It was very peaceful here. They stood together, the man's hand on the wolf's head, looking out across the water. Somehow, they knew this singular harmony could not last.

 _Moony._

Finally, the man looked back to the shore, where the white seashell gleamed. It was time. The wolf melded back into the man, who waded to the shore. Slowly, he bent towards the shell. As soon as his fingertips brushed the hard surface, his identity surged back with the power of the ocean.

He was Remus.

 _Come back... please._

 _I'm coming_.

Alien relief flooded him with sunlight. Remus took one last, long look at the dark expanse, then turned away and ascended.

* * *

"Remus? Moony? Wake up, please…"

"Fi'moreminutesss," Remus slurred.

"Oh thank Merlin and God and anyone else out there listening…"

Trembling, but strong hands lifted him from the freezing ground. Then he was leaning against something solid and hard. Stone. Remus blinked cautiously. The darkness was so absolute he thought he'd gone blind. Then he remembered it was nighttime.

"Did it work?"

"It worked." He could not see James' face, but his friends weak response told him enough.

"How long?"

"Only a few minutes."

"Oh," Remus responded, unbalanced. It had felt like centuries. And now he felt… different. Whole for the first time since escaping Voldemort. No longer afloat but grounded. He rubbed his hands over his face. _Harry._ He stood abruptly, which must have startled James. Remus heard him tumble backwards on the grass.

"Let's go get Harry," Remus said.

"Wait, Remus, are you okay? Do you need a minute?" James spluttered, pushing himself upright.

"We don't have a minute and I'm fine, actually."

"Moony-"

"I solemnly swear, Prongs."

Remus heard the click of James' teeth as his jaw snapped shut. His silence was deafening. Remus suddenly got the impression that James was struck by something besides Remus' quick recovery. He waited for a response, but none was forthcoming, except a whispered, "Let's go then."

But the way that James grasped Remus arm as they walked confirmed Remus' suspicion. Only the need for stealth kept Remus from prying further.

Within the thick wall of magic, the Riddle House was clearly occupied. Light shone from the windows and occasionally a shadow would pass in front of them. Swallowing down nerves, Remus pressed forwards. They wended through a forest of tall gravestones, which rose suddenly from the darkness in front of them, then disappeared again like ghosts. The closer they got to the Riddle House, the tighter James' grip became. This was where the plan went from careful construction to near-improvisation. The only advantage they had now was secrecy.

The graves ended at a hedge that may have once been neatly trimmed. But in the coming spring, the evergreen had began to grow haphazardly without a caretaker. Remus paused just outside the tangled branches. He could sense another ward here, but it was relatively elementary to disarm without setting off any tripwires.

They crawled underneath the hedges and stopped when they had an unobstructed view of the manor. Its hulking bulk loomed over a gothic garden, which lay about like some wild thing long dead, leaving only its skeleton.

"Cloaks on, you reckon?" James murmured. Remus nodded. James donned his cloak, disappearing completely from view. They only sign he was there was the warmth seeping into Remus' side. Remus wriggled Mad-Eye's invisibility cloak out from his pocket and painstakingly wrapped himself in it. It was not as perfectly concealing as James', but it would do the job as long as he was careful not to move when someone was looking directly at him.

Navigating the labyrinthine garden with an invisible, unspeaking partner was like playing quidditch with a demiguise as his only teammate. They struggled to keep their shoulders or hands touching, but sometimes they had to use both hands to clamber over stone walls and weedy obstacles. The shadows got darker as they finally reached the foundation of the mansion. The stones rose up like the side of a very deep ravine.

In unspoken agreement, the two invisible Marauders snuck along the wall until they found a side entrance. The door was small and windowless, probably a servant's portal. Remus cast a silent _homenum revelio_ charm in a small radius around the door. When the magic confirmed that the room beyond was unoccupied, he used Sirius' pocketknife to unlock the door and softly swung it outwards. It appeared to be a mudroom that had long fell into disuse. The cupboards were shrouded in cobwebs and moth-eaten coats hung on the rusted hooks in the wall.

When the door was locked behind them, Remus passed James the pocketknife. Anxiety and adrenaline was thrumming through his limbs. A part of him had not allowed him to believe he would make it this far. Surely, defeating the wards would have been his end. But here he stood and the rest was in motion. Uncertainty was coursing through him. Here began the fool's mission.

"We stay for one hour at most," Remus whispered, steeling himself as much as James to keep to the limit. _Dad could be here._ Beneath his cloak, he checked his battered watch. It read 3:13 a.m. "I'll take this floor and below, you work your way up. If we don't find Harry or Lyall or any of the other horcruxes, then we meet here. Get out and try something new tomorrow." _Please let us find them…_ "And if something goes wrong…"

"Merlin help us," James breathed to Remus' left.

"Agreed."

James' hand squeezed his shoulder. Then the door into the rest of the manor opened of its own accord and James was gone. The corridor was abandoned, but Remus' sensitive hearing picked up the low rumble of voices in the rooms at the other end. He nervously pulled the cloak tighter, as well as the walls around his mind, conscious of the cold burn of Voldemort somewhere in the building.

Remus first found a large kitchen. Most of the old equipment was untouched, but a trail ran through the thick dust that carpeted the floor to a door in the corner. He made note of the brass handle. It was polished from use. He opened it cautiously, and it revealed a winding staircase like a well in the stone floor. A cellar. Remus itched to investigate, but his methodical and logical self urged him to check the rest of the main level first. Regretfully, he closed the door with care and exited the kitchen.

The house must have once been the picture of opulence. Most of the rooms on the main level were designed to entertain. They had high, sweeping ceilings shrouded in cobwebs. The windows looked out on the dead gardens and the walls were covered in portraits of proud subjects. He guessed that the furniture beneath the white sheets was also meant to be an arrogant display of wealth. But despite the beauty beneath the age and disuse, Remus felt that any party thrown here would lack any semblance of warmth.

The dust was thick in most of the rooms. But a few had been cleared, and Remus searched harder in these. One was the library, but the shelves only hosted a few old tomes about subjects considered useless, like garden-planning or knitting. The Death Eaters seemed to have converted this into some kind of mess room to store possessions. It was here that he was startled for the first time by someone else entering.

He froze where he stood by a shelf. The intruders… or perhaps the occupants (he was the intruder, after all), were Evan Rosier and Rabastan Lestrange. Remus felt a snarl building in his throat when he saw the latter, but choked it back.

"-shouldn't be letting Pettigrew have responsibility the boy. He's losing it."

"Of course I thought of that, Rosier," Lestrange said coolly. He set a case on the table and began to rummage through the contents. Remus recognized several potions ingredients. "Acquiring the child took finesse, careful planning, intel that took months to gather. But I trust that the Dark Lord knows what he's doing."

"He's putting the boy into the hands of a fool," Rosier spat.

"The fool has already proven that he cares not whether the boy lives or dies. He showed that when he betrayed the Potters in the first place."

"You haven't seen him lately," whispered Rosier. "He spends hours staring at nothing, muttering to himself-"

"If you're concerned about his loyalty-"

"No," Rosier said, sounding disgusted. "The yellow-livered coward has no loyalty in him, to anyone. I'm concerned about his mental state. You should have seen him when I summoned him to the Dark Lord the night you took the Potter boy. Giggling to himself, he was."

"Not much better than his werewolf friend, then."

Remus stiffened. Lestrange was oblivious, carefully counting his stores and marking a ledger.

"Wolf's sane, remember?"

"Werewolves aren't sane by nature. If he's anything like Greyback…"

Remus nearly rolled his eyes, despite the small stab of hurt in his chest at the comment. Perhaps a few years ago, maybe even months ago, this would have had him cringing in doubt. But now, it just revealed Lestrange's ignorance. Perhaps the man was good at imitating people, but he knew nothing of about their nature.

"Guy gives me the creeps," Rosier said with a shiver. Remus could not disagree. Greyback was a psychopath. "But the Dark Lord keeps around. Merlin knows why. Should kill 'em all in my opinion."

Some feral anger was building in Remus' stomach. He met many reclusive werewolves living in small, malnourished groups before he joined Greyback's pack. Many were reluctant to openly help the Order, but promised that they wanted nothing to do with Voldemort. After excruciating years of avoiding hurting anyone else, most werewolves preferred not to murder in the name of a dark wizard. Those that did… it was out of despair. Declan's tortured face swam in his vision. His own struggles with the warm, velvet void… _Despair isn't the end. Hope can fail… but sometimes, rarely, it can burn again._

"He's here, you know."

Remus' muscles tensed. _Greyback was here?_

"Why?"

"The Dark Lord has the Potter boy now. He has no need for the old man. Poetic end, don't you think?"

"What do you mean?"

But Remus needed no further explanation. The atmosphere was sucked from his lungs. Every instinct screamed at him to pull his wand on the two Death Eaters and demand where his father was. _Harry, think of Harry._ Harry was here, that much was clear by the Death Eaters' conversation. And so was his father. He could not blow his cover yet. " _He has no need for the old man."_

Heart pounding, Remus slid along the bookshelf, pausing every time Lestrange or Rosier turned his direction. Their voices were reaching his ears as if from underwater. His hands trembled. Finally, finally, he made it to the doorway and slipped into the blessedly empty corridor.

He worked swiftly, struggling to keep his panic under control as he checked each room. Some held figures in cloaks, one held a make-shift potions lab, but none held either Harry or his dad. Or, fortunately, Voldemort.

The main floor was a dead end.

As best he could without running, Remus hastened back to the kitchen. There was the door in the corner. The stairs descended down into a gloomy darkness and reminded Remus forcefully of his near-descent to madness at the hands of Voldemort.

But for first time, the trauma of that night was not oppressive. It burned like ice and dampened his panic.

The cellar smelled of decay. It wafted up the stairs as Remus crept down, along with gruff voices. One was low and menacing, a tone Remus instantly identified as Greyback. Another voice was snide, still gravelly but higher in pitch. This one was more difficult to place amidst the rubble of memories from the months before Halloween. Twisted form and twisted face, kicking feet, hissed insults… _Julian_.

Sometimes, despair was the end.

Remus peeked around the corner and saw the misshapen werewolf lurking in a low, dim corridor. The memory of Julian had been mostly buried, his petty jabs not important enough to resurrect in Remus' struggle for himself. But here he was, like a phantom. He held a lantern aloft. The red light glowed on the moisture and dirt gathered on the stones. An arched doorway was outlined by the lamp, like a hot wire running along the frame. Greyback was nowhere to be seen.

Taking advantage of the deep shadows, Remus slunk along the wall, a mere distortion like a wave of heat. As he drew closer, he heard Greyback's voice emanating from the room. His growl grated over Remus like knives, but he held still and listened.

"-the Dark Lord granted me the honor of killing you. After all these years of watching my handiwork torment you, it seems somehow anticlimactic, don't you think?"

Remus held his breath. There was no response.

"Do you remember what you said to me, years and years ago?"

There was a sound of flesh hitting flesh and a groan. Remus bit down on his tongue, hard.

"You said that werewolves were soulless, evil, deserving nothing but death. Does your son know what you think of him?"

Remus did, though he understood that that had changed. An old wound, long scarred. And he knew that it would hurt his father more.

"I think he must. Why else would he be so self-destructive? These suicide missions he attempts are just that… attempts to end the agony of knowing what his own father believes he is. You should have killed him when you had the chance."

"Please…"

Remus' heart nearly stopped. His father's voice was feather-light, whispering across the stones. Julian sneered, fueling a fire that was building in Remus' chest.

Moving as smoothly and quickly as water, Remus crept up alongside Julian and struck. Julian barely had time to gasp before he slumped, a silent stunner sending him to the ground. The lantern landed with a clatter and rolled down the damp hallway. The flame sputtered and died. But Remus did not need the light. His sharp eyes could easily see the hulking form of Greyback looming over a prone figure. Lyall.

Making a decision, Remus allowed the invisibility cloak wrapped around him to flutter to the ground. For a moment, Greyback and Remus simply stared at each other. A slow, feral grin was spreading across the older werewolf's face.

"Remus…you-you shouldn't be here." Lyall's weak entreaty broke the silence. Remus' eyes grazed over his father, taking in the sunken face, the bruises, and the dull gray eyes. Satisfied that he was at least not dying for now, Remus chose not to respond and moved his eyes to Greyback.

Greyback was staring at him with predatory hunger that made Remus' intestines squirm. In the gloom, his gold eyes almost seemed to glow with sickening fire. Remus could smell him from his place in the doorway, a mixture of sweat and blood.

"Well, Remus, what a pleasant surprise," Greyback said in a low voice. Remus took a cautious step into the cell, every sense fixed on the larger werewolf. "It was quite a disappointment to learn that your loyalties to my pack were false."

"But then, you guessed that all along, didn't you?" Remus asked. The grin was fading from Greyback's face.

"I did," he said in with a growl. He had not moved, but his muscles were tensing, hard as stones against his grimy skin. "Tell me, Remus, what lies did the old man tell you that made you think that you could amount to anything other than a monster?"

"I chose my own path," Remus answered coolly. "Dumbledore only asked me to make my decision."

"Dumbledore is weak," Greyback hissed. From his dirty pants he drew something silvery that glinted wickedly. A carving knife, notched and rusted. Every one of Remus' nerves were electrified with adrenaline. He nearly missed Greyback's next statement. "Do you really think denying the wolf is somehow noble? Your suffering is meaningless."

Remus kept his facial muscles from betraying the twinge of uncertainty that rose in his belly. But his doubt did not last long. It was quenched by the waters deep inside his mind, the ones that he'd found through suffering. He was changed, but he was stronger for it.

"You are a fool, Greyback," Remus whispered.

"Am I?" Greyback snarled. "Your father made the mistake of underestimating me once, and you paid the price. How curious that the roles are switched."

Quick as a snake, he plunged the knife downwards towards Lyall. Remus reacted at the same moment. He lunged, throwing his entire body against Greyback. It was like hitting a boulder, but Greyback toppled with a roar of psychotic rage. Remus felt the blunt blade slide across his stomach, leaving a shallow cut that welled with blood. They rolled across the floor, Greyback gaining the upper ground. A claw snatched Remus' wand arm and smashed it against a stone. With a yelp of pain, Remus released the wand.

He lashed out blindly with the other fist, catching Greyback on his stubbled jaw. But the werewolf absorbed the blow easily. Two large paws grabbed the sides of Remus' head and slammed it hard into the ground.

Stars popped in front of Remus' eyes. His skull felt like it had imploded and he lost sense of up and down for several seconds. The weight of Greyback disappeared from his chest. _No, no, no_ -Remus pushed himself up. The floor bucked and swayed under his feet. But Greyback was already looming over his father, the rusted knife in his fist. It was dripping blood.

 _No, Dad!_ Remus couldn't see his father. Greyback raised the dagger for a second strike. _Wand… need wand._ The thin stick of wood was four feet away. Remus stumbled to it and whirled dizzily back to Greyback.

"Expelliarmus!" He yelled the first thing that came to mind. The knife flew from Greyback's hand and pinged into the hall.

Greyback snarled and pounced, wolf-like, at Remus. Thoughts too muddled to react, Remus lurched backwards. A swipe of Greyback's long nails, and Remus felt four lines of burning fire rip across his face.

But strangely enough, the pain centered him. Blood dripping into his eyes and mouth, Remus spat and side-stepped a second attack.

"Stupefy!" he shouted. The blast of red that threw Greyback violently into the other wall was strong enough to crack the stones.

A deafening silence followed. Remus' whole body was trembling. _Dad…_

He tripped to his knees at his father's side. Lyall was panting, his hand clutching his leg. It was gloved in crimson.

"Dad," he rasped. He pressed a hand to the gaping wound, struggling to get a better grip on his wand. Blood spurted in a rhythmic fountain. Remus felt the bottom of his stomach drop out. The femoral artery was there.

"R-Remus."

The fabric of Remus' cloak was damp near his knees. He couldn't look down, knowing it was not water. He pressed harder.

"I think… I think I can heal it-" Remus faltered. The wound was deep and he was no healer. He tried a charm to heal cuts. The skin knit back together, but underneath, Remus knew the muscle and arteries were still unmended.

"H-Harry. Leave me. Y-you have to rescue him, son."

It was an impossible choice. If he left his father in this cell, he would die in seconds. _He'll die no matter what you do, he's lost too much blood._ Harry… Harry was the world to his parents. And to Remus and Sirius.

"I can't leave," he said anyway.

"I'm dying anyway," Lyall murmured. Remus wanted to deny it. He aimed deeper, searching for the artery, slipping inside flesh. _Too late, too late_. The truth was like a cruciatus curse on his soul. It wasn't right. There was too much they had to say to each other. How much time did they have?

"I'm sorry," Remus said frantically. "I'm sorry. I caused you so much-"

"No, Rem," Lyall said gently. His lips were nearly transparent. Blue veins spider-webbed across his arms. His fingers brushed the bleeding cuts on Remus' face. "I'm sorry. I… I did this… to you. I-I saw it all again… in the cave… I'm sorry."

"Dad-"

"H-Harry. Don't stop fighting, R-Rem… I was wrong to be angry with you…"

"It's okay," Remus soothed.

"L-love…"

But Lyall Lupin spoke no more. Remus let his hands fall to his lap. Lyall's gray eyes were fixed on something Remus could not see, something far beyond the dark cell. With blood-stained fingers, Remus closed his father's eyes. Salty liquid stung his scratched cheeks. Failure weighed down heavily. He wished he could sink into the ground and stay that way forever.

After a lifetime crushed into a moment, Remus checked his watch. Beneath the flecks of blood on the glass, the hands read 4:01. Swallowing roughly, he pushed himself to his feet.

"Love you too, Dad," he whispered. "Say hi to mum for me."

He surveyed the carnage. Greyback was slumped on the ground, unconscious. Through his numbed emotions, Remus felt nothing as he looked at his father's killer. No anger or need for revenge. Only hollowness and utter exhaustion. He could shed no more blood tonight.

Hating that he would have to leave his father's body behind in this cursed place, he took one last look at the lined face and graying hair. Then he left the cell. Another part of him left behind. He stepped over Julian and gathered up the invisibility cloak. A check of the rest of the cells and rooms in the basement showed that they were empty. There was no sign of Harry, or anyone else being kept in the bowels of the Riddle House.

Listlessly, he siphoned some of the blood from his hands as he labored up the winding stair. The temptation to give up hope had never been so strong. He had failed to save his father and failed to save Harry. The Dark Lord would surely know that they had come, and hide away Harry and the last horcrux in a place impossible to find.

Desperately praying that James had been more successful, he snuck back to the servant's entrance to wait for his companion. It was in the dim quiet of the cramped room that Remus realized that something was wrong.

There were loud shouts coming from the upper floors. A crackling of spells sounded over his head. _James!_

Pounding footsteps approached the door. Remus whipped out his wand, adrenaline pumping, just as the door burst open. It was James, invisibility cloak trailing behind him. He slammed the door, breathing hard. A few quick spells later, and the door was transfigured into immoveable iron. His hazel eyes were wide when they surveyed Remus.

"Remus! You're hurt! What-"

"Harry?" Remus demanded, ignoring the comment.

The devastated shadow in James' eyes told Remus enough. He wanted to be sick.

"I found a room-like a nursery, but it was empty-" James' voice broke. He swallowed and steadied himself. "I tried-I looked everywhere; he's-he's not here."

The invisibility cloak hanging off of James' shoulders gave the impression that he was fading away with his fear for his son. Outside the door, Remus could hear a crowd of people gathering and loud exclamations. An explosion sounded against the metal. The Death Eaters knew-

"Voldemort is here," James muttered. "He's not very happy… I managed to snatch this."

James pulled the invisibility cloak completely off, revealing his left hand. In it gleamed a cup of gold, emblazoned with a badger. The fifth horcrux. Remus' heart jumped.

"No others?"

"None. Just this. He kept it very close."

Another explosion. The door sagged inwards.

"We have to go James."

James nodded, but his face was pale and his jaw clenched. Remus opened the door to the gardens. Both of them tore themselves away from the Riddle House, both desperate to be rid of it, and desperate to stay.

 _Crack!_

A bright flash cascaded across the dome over the house, snapping like lightning. The wards Remus had so carefully folded back had been breached. The ground trembled ominously. Remus stumbled and fell, his precarious balance already affected by the wound in the back of his head. Had Sirius and Lily tried to cross the wards?

It seemed irrational. They both knew the need for secrecy, the danger of attempting to enter without taking them down. They would be killed…

James pulled him back to his feet and Remus looked out across the graveyard. Beneath the charcoal gray sky, a black figure was falling away from the border of the Riddle House wards. No… it wasn't Sirius and Lily. Someone else was escaping the manor.

Remus realized vision was swimming… or was the earth itself actually rippling?

"Oh… damn," James breathed. The wards had triggered a new evil.

Mounds of earth heaved in the hillside before them. The earth's crust was hatching some new creature. Only this twisted creation was not living. Skeletal hands and wasted faces pushed up from the graves, hundreds of them, until the graveyard was swarming like an anthill. An army of inferi now stood between them and their friends.

* * *

a/n: Ah! What happened to Harry? What's going on? You'll have to wait... again. Sorry.

I feel I should apologize for making Remus' life difficult. But that's just the way it is I guess. And here is an explanation for Remus' strengths and weaknesses with magic: While he may be excellent at many things regarding spells and non-verbal magic, he cannot be perfect at everything. In my mind, the areas where he struggles are potions and healing, the latter because werewolf wounds cannot be healed completely, so he never spent time perfecting it. I hope this is a reasonable explanation of why he could not heal his father's more complicated wounds.

Oh. And I hope that stuff with the wards made sense...

R&R

-Cat


	31. Interlude V: The Crossing (Peter)

Thank you again to my reviewers! You people are amazing. This is another Interlude and a _final_ glimpse into Peter's head for this story, which, shockingly, is nearing its end... I have about 5 more chapters ahead, give or take a few. Perhaps even an epilogue. Anyway, you are all the best for sticking with me this far!

-Cat

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Chapter 31

 _Interlude V: The Crossing (Peter)_

Peter Pettigrew had not been born with a cold heart. It had become that way, hardened by the growth of bitterness and iced with anger. Deadened by despair. And now, it was struggling to beat again.

 _What do I do?_

Amongst his many incompetencies, he was also not good at making decisions for himself. He had always relied on someone else in the past, friend or Death Eater. His teeth chattered. He paced a little path in the dust, Harry's emerald stare ever watchful from the rickety crib. Another question niggled in the back of his mind.

 _Why could he not touch you?_

He had never heard of it happening before. Voldemort had not returned since then, for which Peter was immensely grateful. He did not doubt that the Dark Lord would be able to read his traitorous thoughts.

"What do I do?" he asked the room.

"Play, Wormy," Harry answered cheerfully. He seemed to have forgotten the trauma of seeing the Dark Lord face to face. Though every once and awhile he remembered to miss his parents, Harry seemed to have accepted that Peter was just a babysitter, and that his parents would come and get him soon.

"We need to get out of here, Harry," Peter muttered, his heart fluttering like a bird. He wished he could be as ignorant as Harry. It was very dark outside, probably very early in the morning. Most of the Dark Lord's followers would either be asleep or on undisclosed missions. He poked his head out into the corridor. It was empty.

They could sneak out. But where would they go? _Hogwarts_ , came the obvious answer. He grimaced to himself, despair rising. No one would believe he was not a spy for the Dark Lord, even if he had Harry with him. _Maybe James or Remus would believe you…_ but he dismissed that hope as soon as it rose. He was alone.

Despondently, Peter glanced at Harry. The Dark Lord would kill him tomorrow if James did not give him what he wanted. _This is what you have wrought,_ Peter repeated in his head. _This is your fault_. _You have to stop it_.

The corridor was still empty.

He could stay here. Pretend there was nothing he could do. He could convince himself to believe it. But something small and very hot and bright in his heart stopped him… maybe it was courage, Peter reasoned.

"N-now or never," he whispered to himself. He lifted Harry from the crib. "We're leaving. You have to be very quiet, okay?"

"Oh tay," Harry answered.

Adjusting the boy on his hip, Peter checked the hall one more time. It was still devoid of life. Peter scurried along the wall to the next room. It was a small bedroom, most likely a nanny's quarters. If there was one thing that Peter was adept at, it was hiding. Being a rat animagus had its uses, and one of them was finding secret places and corners that were well hidden. In his festering need to avoid his fellow Death Eaters, he had discovered a narrow servant's stair that ran along the back of the house. Most of the entrances were blocked. Peter only knew of its existence because he had squeezed himself under some floorboards and found an opening. Now, Peter snuck across the creaking floor to the closet, where an entrance to the stair blended into the back wall. He slipped inside and gently shut the door.

Not a moment too soon.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway, moving slowly towards the nursery. Peter heard doorknobs turning, each room being methodically inspected. It seemed strange, but Peter did not spend any more time dwelling on it. If he stopped now, he would lose his nerve.

Descending the stairs was a bit of a squeeze with Harry. Peter eventually turned sideways, facing the ancient bricks on the outer wall. The stairwell was chilly, and occasionally a draft would blow across their faces, bringing a musty smell of mold and dust. A new feeling was filling him like a warm glow. He was _doing_ something. And for once, he knew it was good. Not enough to redeem him, no, but good.

The stairs ended at the ground floor. Peter knew that they exited into a small broom cupboard in a back hallway. He pressed his ear to the door. There was no sound from the other side. Grateful that the size of the house was currently their ally, Peter stealthily slid out into the abandoned hallway.

That was when he heard it, and his heart nearly quit altogether.

There was a screech of rage, followed by shouts. The missing pair must have been discovered. All stealth abandoned, he dashed through the hall. The back foyer was a bay of glass, a single double portal in the middle. Too exposed, too exposed. But Peter rushed through them anyway, Harry bouncing against him. The boy was quiet, but Peter still hushed, "Shh, Harry, we'll be out soon."

His knees felt weak. Every hair on the back of his neck tingled as he stumbled through the skeletal remains of the garden. Any minute, surely, they would see. He felt like vomiting. The image flashed distractingly in front of his eyes, a green flash followed by nothing. Or maybe followed by hell. Peter was not sure if he believed in an afterlife, but if hell existed, Peter thought he might end up there.

He tumbled through the garden gate and felt a spiderweb of spells pull at him. He had expected this. Luckily, the first layer of enchantments would allow a Death Eater to pass. The dark mark on his forearm burned and he was released. Breathing hard, he gazed out across the graveyard on the hillside. The black sky was lightening to a heavy iron gray. The graves were laid out thickly in the dead grass, which rustled under Peter's cloak.

Harry clung tighter to him. The boy had little knowledge of death, but some instinct was clearly causing him to watch the standing stones warily. Peter did not blame him. Many of the graves were carved in the likeness of giant angels of death that loomed over them, two or three times the height of a man.

Within the mansion, there was a sound of explosions and the shouting increased in volume. _Hurry, hurry_. Harry felt heavier in his arms. Animalistic panic in his brain begged him to drop the extra weight and sprint to the wall. Peter pushed that instinct away and jogged laboriously.

Finally, he reached the low pile of stones that marked the border. He paused, gulping in large amounts of oxygen. It was the second set of wards that would be dangerous to cross. Trying to leave Riddle Manor by any other way than the front path was perilous to anyone, Death Eater or no. Voldemort himself had set these curses.

"Okay, Harry, I'm just going to put you down for a second," he whispered, his voice wavering.

"Tay."

Peter lowered him to the grass and cautiously approached the wall. The air molecules crackled with charge, causing goosebumps to raise on Peter's skin. Doubt crawled up his spine, but he clenched his jaw.

"Now what, Pettigrew?" he muttered. "Come on, idiot, _think_."

He studied the empty air where he knew the wards coiled like a snake. His mind was blank. His grades in Defense Against the Dark Arts were barely passable. The only spell he could think of was the cure-all countercurse. It probably would not work with such complex magic, but it was worth a try.

"Finite incantatem," he intoned, with as much concentration as he could muster. There was a slight shimmer in the wards. He repeated himself, stronger. The invisible wall shimmered again. A few layers even shredded and peeled back like translucent cobwebs.

"Oooo," Harry said, forgetting to be quiet and wondering at the gauzy magic.

"Don't touch those, Harry," Peter said quickly. Harry nodded and followed the progress of the torn spells to the ground.

The shredding barriers gave Peter a little more confidence. He repeated the spell until no more threads frayed away. He had no way of knowing what other wards remained. He could feel them there, but he had reached the limit of his shallow magical talent in ward-breaking.

"Okay," Peter breathed. Nervous sweat beaded on his brow. His hands shook as he lifted Harry up again. "Okay… Hopefully we'll be okay…Ready Harry?"

"Weady," Harry nodded.

Peter pulled him tight against his chest. _One, two,... three!_

Peter charged the wall and with a clumsy leap, cleared it. He felt the impact with the wards like his entire body had been electrocuted. Bright light flashed in his vision with a thunderous _clap!_

With a squeal of pain, Peter rolled across the cold ground. Harry fell from his arms. His whole body seized in the grip of a venomous fire that burned him, body and soul. He was certain he'd died. Was this hell? Then his ears were filled with the long screams that haunted his days.

 _Oh god, Remus, what have I done?_

" _You are nothing to me Peter,"_ said James' voice, which was different, cold. " _You killed my son."_

The screams became Harry's and then Lily, who was begging, pleading with someone, " _Please! Not Harry!"_

And Sirius laughed, loud and deranged by despair.

Had Peter not been paralyzed on the freezing weeds, he would have clamped his hands over his ears. _No, please!_

But wait… he was laying on the grass… he was still alive! But something else was wrong, a boiling sensation in his abdomen. His mind was getting foggier.

Someone was tugging on his sleeve.

"Wormy! Help!"

It was Harry, who was very much alive and unscathed. Big, fat tears were rolling down his cheeks, luminous in the twilight. Behind him, strange, wasted forms were rising. Bile rose in Peter's mouth. He tried to move, but the spell that was consuming him held him fixed in place, victim to the fire burning in his abdomen and the voices burning in his mind.

"Up! Wormy!"

 _I failed. I failed…_ Harry was crying now, as the dead moved in, unnatural and unchecked, sightless eyes fixed greedily on the pathetic pair. Harry would be torn to pieces before Peter's eyes. And then Peter would follow.

 _I deserve to die_.

He knew his old friends would never welcome him back. His only redemption would be saving Harry, but he could not even do that. The enchanted corpses clambered over the wall. Their empty sockets stared without feeling. Peter's fingers and toes were growing numb. His vision was tunneling.

" _Run Harry!"_ he wanted to shout.

Harry did not deserve to die.

Suddenly, a wreath of brilliant red flames exploded over Peter's head in a disc. With rasping screams, the inferi fell backwards. Sparks showered as the flames collided with the wards, but it was enough. The inferi retreated from the consuming heat. Peter tried to turn, but couldn't. But Harry looked up, and his eyes became huge.

"Mum!" he shrieked, almost sobbing. Before he could move from Peter's side, Lily Potter swept him up in her arms and held her child fast.

"Harry, Harry," she repeated, over and over. She sunk to the earth. Harry clung to her neck, overcome with tears.

Relief melted over Peter. How Lily had miraculously been there did not matter. Now, at least, he had done one good thing.

Then, tall, imposing shadow fell over him, blocking his view of mother and child.

When Sirius spoke, his voice was laden.

"Wormtail."

Peter's heart pounded. And his breath was getting weaker.

* * *

a/n: Finally Harry's rescued! (Well, almost...) Lily POV up next :)


	32. The Breaking Storm (Lily)

Hello everyone! You guys are so amazing in your encouragement and support. Really. That's all I have to say. Also, to my grammar and spelling people: I did not comb through this chapter nearly as well as I should have, so go to town!

-Cat

* * *

Chapter 32

 _The Breaking Storm (Lily)_

Lily's dam had broken. It was built of iron and steel and stone, forged by a long bitter fight, and it was utterly destroyed. Every second without Harry had been a blow with the force of a thousand armies. Now, holding him in her arms, she felt her will disintegrating.

Every horror, fear, guilt and ache was washing out with her tears, replaced by a fresh wave of relief. Harry was alive. He was warm and small in her arms.

"Harry, Harry, I love you so much, Harry..." She nearly could not stop sobbing his name.

In the flickering of the flames she had cast across the wall, she drank in the sight of him. His face was red and blotchy from tears, his bright green eyes watery, but he was whole and blessedly unharmed. It was difficult to wrench her gaze from her son, but this was not over yet. Still holding Harry tight, she looked up to where Sirius was standing, every muscle in his back tense. He was vibrating in the strobing firelight. Lily could not see his face, but from the look on Peter's, it must be terrifying.

 _Peter…_ The last time she saw the traitor was in Hogwarts, ferreting secrets as a rat. Her own words echoed in her head, _"Don't you regret anything, Peter?"_

 _Did he?_ The man trembled on the dead grass, completely drained of color in the orange light. He was shrunken, thinner. Much less than the man he used to be. And yet… she scanned over the inferi behind the barrier of flames, up and down the wall, across the field. James and Remus were not here. Worry blossomed at their absence.

This left Lily with two possible conclusions: either Peter actually did regret something and chose to do something about it, or James and Remus had been apprehended and Peter was ordered by Voldemort to sneak Harry to a new location. Clutching Harry to her chest, she got to her feet and moved to stand next to Sirius. Peter was frozen on the ground, eyes bulging.

"L-Li-" he stuttered, his jaw unmoving and his throat convulsing. In a flash, Lily understood. The man genuinely could not move. She glanced back at the wards, which were still sparking angrily. Peter must have tried to disarm them, but finally decided to gave up and jumped through. Sloppy, but Peter had never been the best at spells. Whatever curses were still up, one had paralyzed him. A thought was niggling in the back of her mind. _If he is still working for Voldemort, why did he not use the front gate?_

But there was no time to ponder evidence. If James and Remus had been caught, they needed to act quickly. Her wand was still drawn, so she pointed it at Peter's body. His eyes met hers in terror. She stared back coldly, not really caring that he thought she was about to curse him.

Instead, she intoned several counter-charms, learned from both Hogwarts and St. Mungo's. There was a pale glow around Peter, and suddenly he jerked. Earthquake-like tremors ran up and down his limbs. He made to sit-up, but Sirius snapped, "Don't move."

A quick scan of Peter made Lily wonder if the man could sit up. His cheeks were almost gray and his eyes glassy. Lily did a quick search for Peter's wand and saw it lying just out of his reach. She summoned it to herself and slid it into her pocket.

"I ought to curse you straight to hell," Sirius ground out. Peter flinched badly at the word "hell." The end of Sirius' wand was glittering dangerously.

"Sirius," Lily cautioned him stiffly. She turned her eyes on Peter, keeping them cold and unfeeling, despite the tear-tracks and the bubble of joy at having Harry so close. She was steel and ice, a front built to protect her heart."Explain."

Peter could not meet her eyes again, from which Lily drew some satisfaction. "I-I-I couldn't… I couldn't let him d-do anything t-to H-Harry…"

"That did not seem to matter to you in October," she reminded him, her voice like a blade. It was easy, doubting Peter. She had grown used to it. "And what about Remus? He was nothing to you?"

Peter flinched violently again at her admonition. "H-he's n-not nothing…"

"Your actions are betraying you, Wormtail," Sirius hissed. Lily could feel the crackle of his magic like electricity.

Peter nodded miserably. Lily had not expected that. The Peter she knew was a coward, the black sheep of Gryffindor. She expected denial, excuses, explanations. But this Peter just nodded.

"Why?" she asked. Her voice was still edged, but it was not quite as strong as she had wanted it to sound.

"I…" Peter finally mustered himself and drew his eyes painfully up to hers. "I do regret something. I… I'm so sorry-"

"Fuck that," Sirius bit out angrily.

"Sirius-" Lily started.

"No. It's not enough. It will _never_ be enough!" he shouted, his vocal chords strained. For a moment, Lily's emotional side was inclined to agree with Sirius. Her husband's best friend was volatile and wild, but Lily had always secretly thought they were more alike than they realized. But Lily also had a milder side, one that was analytical and careful of the souls of other people. She looked back down at Peter ( _Don't hope for him yet, Lily_ ). Whatever he was, she could not pass any judgment here. And she could not let Sirius do so, either.

The man in question had his wand aimed directly between Peter's eyes.

"Sirius stop it," she commanded firmly. "Perhaps you're right, but for now, he brought Harry back to us. We need to focus on getting Remus and James out, not deciding the fate of Pettigrew."

The reminder of his missing friends seemed to help Sirius center himself again. He slowly lowered his arm. Every inch seemed to cost him a mile of control. But finally, he nodded tightly.

"Can you stand?" he growled at Peter. With wobbling limbs, Peter attempted to push himself upright, but collapsed back with a yelp. His breaths were getting shallow. The skin around his lips was turning blue.

"He didn't take down all the curses," Lily stated numbly, repeating her realization from earlier. But this time it had new implications. "Something's wrong-Harry!"

She twisted to look at Harry, but he just blinked up at her, teary-eyed but healthy. He was showing none of Peter's symptoms.

"He… he couldn't touch him. Y-You-Know-Who," Peter stammered around gasps for breath.

"What do you mean?" Lily asked, harsher than she meant.

"Voldemort. He… he tried to hurt Harry, but… nothing happened. Like his magic wasn't working or something. The-the w-wards probably didn't hurt him either."

Lily fell silent, thoughts racing. James' awed voice rose in her memory, _"The killing curse was blocked somehow, Lils. I'm still alive."_ What on earth was going on?

"Mum mad at Wormy?" Harry asked suddenly. His voice was enough to soothe some of her agitation.

"Just a little, baby," she answered softly.

"Wormy hurt," Harry said with a teary frown.

Peter had started to cough. Blood was on his lips. Something besides anger and confusion stirred in Lily's heart. Pity. She cast a few diagnostic spells and stared at the resulting aura that floated above the grass. Sirius watched, frozen in place. She could feel his question like a laser beam cutting into her brain. _What's wrong with him?_

Lily did not answer immediately. If she had started to hope that Peter had returned to them, she felt it dry up into dust. Another victim of a curse like this rose in her mind, his long silver beard stretched across deep red sheets. Dumbledore suffered from a slow poison. Whatever Voldemort had woven into the wards, it was trampling through Peter's body like a stampede, unceasing and steady.

"N-not good?" Peter struggled to say.

Lily shook her head mutely. She had never delivered a death-sentence before. Just an hour ago, she probably would not have cared if the balding man died. Peter looked terrified. He swallowed and moved his dim gaze to Sirius. In her peripheral vision, Sirius twitched. Peter tried to sit up again.

"Hey," Lily soothed, sharpness ebbing, replaced by something else. "Don't try that. I'm sorry I was harsh before. Just lay back."

"S'okay. Understand," Peter replied. "Deserved it."

Lily wondered if that was true. Peter's eyes was still fixed on Sirius.

"You're right. Sorry's not enough," Peter whispered again. "I… You don't have to take me with you. What I've done… I just… I'm so sorry. You… you don't have to forgive me."

Sirius' mouth opened, but he seemed to be suffocating.

Lily shook her hair out of her eyes and straightened. She had to look away. Peter's rasping, sucking breaths were louder than the crackling flames along the wall. Over the inferno, she could seem the inferi swarming the graveyard. The air was filled with the sickening odor of burning flesh. She strained her eyes, searching for two figures she desperately wanted to see, but could only make out the unnatural dead that were lurching drunkenly in the dark.

"Peter-" Sirius started to say. But Peter exhaled a long, final wheeze. After, only the wall of fire and groaning of bodies filled the early dawn.

Sirius' wide blue eyes met Lily's.

It was then that there was an eruption of brilliant azure flames near the side of the Riddle House. The conflagration cascaded down the hill in two edged planes, leaving a path cleared through the dense thicket of the burning inferi. Lily's heart leapt into her mouth. Two figures were running down the path, one with messy hair and flashing glasses, holding the other man up when he stumbled.

They were being pursued. At least thirteen figures in sable cloaks flooded the path after them, sprinting much faster. Lily's heart skipped a beat.

"Da!" Harry shouted, sounding both frightened and delighted.

The effect was immediate. James' head snapped up and his jaw dropped. Remus did as well, but he had a little more sense and pushed James forward when he stopped abruptly. Grinning madly, James skidded to a stop at the boundary.

"Harry," he said breathlessly, looking at his son completely awestruck. "I thought-"

"Not now James," Remus said through gritted teeth, though his amber eyes were bright. Up close, Lily got an unhindered view of his face and sucked in her breath. Four long gashes sliced diagonally, narrowly missing his eyes and mouth. Two slit through his forehead, plastering his bangs down with blood. One crossed over the bridge of his nose and the fourth ended right before it hit his upper lip.

"Moony!" Sirius gasped. "What happened?!"

"Not as bad as it looks," Remus panted, then swirled to face the wave of Death Eaters. Another wound on the back of his head concerned Lily, but now was not the time.

With a sweep of his hand, the blue fire ringed around him and James, cutting off the Death Eaters. He muttered something quickly to James, then faced the barrier and closed his eyes. The flames changed from blue to shining gold as James took charge. There was a minute of anticipation, in which Lily held her breath while Remus worked on the wards. He seemed almost serene where he stood.

Suddenly, he collapsed. An archway appeared in the empty space over the wall, the edges jagged and frayed.

"James!" Lily shouted.

James looked away from the flames to Remus, but did not seem very surprised. He inhaled, jaw set in a grim line.

"Padfoot, you can cross. Get Moony out, I'll be right behind."

Immediately, Sirius leapt the wall and lifted Remus bodily. As soon as the two of them were at Lily's side, James extinguished the flames and dived across the barrier just as the archway closed. Spells exploded against it, but the Death Eaters did not attempt a crossing.

Sirius lay Remus on his back, carefully distant from Peter's body. The wounds on his face were gruesome, but Lily could see now that they were shallow. Red was also staining the edges of a rip in his shirt. It was the werewolf's collapse that was her primary concern. James was at her side in a flash. Harry squealed excitedly, and James flashed him a hungry look, but focused on Remus.

"What happened?"

"He's fine, we just have to wake him up," James replied, the strain in his voice palpable. He grasped the werewolf's hand and closed his eyes.

"Maybe we should get out of here first," Sirius suggested softly.

"No," James replied., eyes staying closed. "Have to do this now, or he won't come back."

Confused, Lily stayed silent, conscious of Peter's empty body in the background and the Death Eaters pacing along the barrier, reluctant to try crossing.

Remus' eyes fluttered open after only a few seconds.

"Welcome back, Moony?" James said with a wide smile. "Trip okay?"

"It was easier that time," Remus responded cryptically.

"What did you-"

"Harry!" Remus gasped, interrupting Sirius. His brown eyes were wide and staring at the little boy.

"Moom!"

James laughed out loud then, so free and unrestrained that Lily's stomach swooped. He wrapped his arms around her and Harry. Lily could feel the tremors in them and her eyes stung. But they weren't done yet.

"Let's get out of here," James murmured.

"Wait," Sirius' voice said. The edge was back in it, cutting their reunion. "What should we do about…" Lily looked up to see him gesturing vaguely in Peter's direction.

Remus' eyes followed Sirius' hand to Peter. The edge of the horizon was turning crimson, a laceration between the gray of the sky and the black of the land. In the bloody light, Peter looked very small. The skin on Remus' face seemed to tighten around the jagged cuts. James stood, staring. None of the remaining Marauders seemed capable of speaking.

"He brought Harry to us," Lily explained. The words felt empty and useless. She said nothing more. Death Eater's jeered from the sidelines, hissing traitor at the shrunken body curled in the dark.

Remus was the first to speak, and when he did, his voice was a monotone. "We can't linger here. Voldemort will not be far behind those Death Eaters."

"His body?" Sirius asked hoarsely. "We… we shouldn't leave it here, should we?"

Remus' reaction to the question was odd. He went very still and white. His voice was strangled when he finally answered. "N-no. If-if we can, we should bring him with us."

Sirius knit his eyebrows and studied Remus. After a few seconds, he decided to say nothing and walked to where Peter lay still.

But a cold, high shriek made the four adults freeze. Harry whimpered and burrowed his face against Lily's chest. James stepped in front of her, shielding their son. Over his shoulder, Voldemort was almost gliding across the grass. His army of inferi shuddered in the throes of flames on the ground. Behind him, a throng of dark witches and wizards.

"So," Voldemort hissed. Despite the softness, it penetrated Lily's skull like a blade of ice. "So… I have been… betrayed once more. Both of my critical informants… disloyal." The 's' was sustained like corroding acid. "Don't trust your slippery spy," he warned, eyes glittering. "He is the reason I will kill your son and end this prophecy."

A second of confusion. Then, the realization hit Lily like a bullet. _Severus._ She was paralyzed with shock. After everything… _Snape told him… Snape told him…_

"Let's go," James snapped, giving no sign that he had understood the cryptic warning. "Now."

"I will end each of you," Voldemort vowed, the force of his hatred in each syllable. He stopped just outside the wall, his own wards preventing him from killing them all now. Lily could not move, fixed in the Dark Lord's scarlet gaze. "Beginning with the boy. And you will know my wrath before you beg for death."

James' hands grasped hers tightly, and they spun away into the narrow passage between space and time.

* * *

The first thing Lily did when they arrived at Kent Cottage was surrender Harry to James. It was hard to release him, but as she watched James stare at him desperately, she gave in. James took Harry in his arms, eyes rimmed with red.

"Daddy missed you buddy," he said, his voice wavering. His glasses were fogging.

"Miss da," Harry replied, latching his arms around his neck. In the light of the foyer, Lily could see the dirt on Harry's arms and grass in his hair.

 _Snape told Voldemort about the prophecy…_ But she couldn't dwell on that until later.

"You should take him for a warm bath," she suggested faintly. She was reluctant to let Harry out of her sight, but Sirius was staggering inside with Peter's body across his shoulders and Remus was behind, looking worse for wear. Exhaustion pulled at her, but she steeled her spine. No time to rest.

"Sirius, lay him on the couch for now," Lily said, holding the door into the living room. "Remus, kitchen."

Remus drifted into the kitchen in front of her, trance-like. James went along, pausing to set a golden cup on the table before toting Harry upstairs to the washroom. The last horcrux. Or what they hoped was the last. Lily moved it to the far end of the table and guided Remus to the chair on the other side.

"Sit," she ordered gently.

Remus lowered himself onto the hardwood seat, his eyes distant. Now, Lily could examine him fully. She went around and prodded the large lump on the back of his skull. Dark, flaky clots crusted his gray and brown hair. Remus did not even flinch when she touched it, but it looked like it hurt. Based on the way he was swaying earlier, she guessed that he was slightly concussed.

She placed a few healing charms over the break in the skin. She would need a potion from her kit in her office for the crack in the skull. She went back around in front of him.

The cuts on his face were shallow as she guessed. She raised her wand, but Remus' soft voice stopped her.

"Magic won't work on these. They're cursed wounds. Greyback."

Damn. Well, they would at least need to be cleaned. Sirius entered with heavy steps. "Sirius I need hot water and rags."

When she heard the faucet filling a basin, she lowered her eyes to Remus' abdomen.

"Can I see?" she asked. Remus nodded vacantly and removed his jumper. When he began to unbutton the shirt underneath, Lily got a good look at his hands. They were nearly gloved in sticky, dried blood. Too much blood. Her eyes flitted to his knees and realized his pants were equally soaked. Heart rate speeding up, she scanned him for a source, but could not find one.

"Remus… is this your blood?"

"Not mine," he whispered. He finished unbuttoning the shirt, showing a jagged, but superficial laceration across his stomach. "You can heal this one with magic."

Lily did so, and the scarred skin of his stomach knitted itself back together without leaving a mark amongst the pale ridges and lines.

"Who-"

"Dad's."

A sharp intake of breath from behind her and a small splash of water spattered her pant leg. Sirius had returned with the water.

"On the table, please, Sirius," Lily instructed around her shock. Sirius set a basin on the table, his shaking hands sending ripples across the surface. She muttered a heating charm and steam began to rise into the tense air. Sirius numbly handed her a rag. She looked back at Remus, catching his hollow stare.

"I'm so sorry, Remus," she murmured. He did not respond. "Sirius, can you get my healing potions kit from my office?"

"Yeah…"

Sirius returned moments later and Lily quickly found her concussion-mending elixir in a small vial. With Remus' grief-stricken silence looming over her, she also removed a vial of Dreamless Sleep. The concussion potion would need half an hour to work, but it would be safe for him to sleep after that.

"Take this," she said, handing him the potion for the concussion. Wordlessly, Remus swallowed it with a small shudder. She slipped some murtlap from a pocket in the potions kit and used the dropper to add some to the steamy water. Then, with the clean rag, she began to gently wipe dirt and sweat from his facial wounds. They did not close, but turned from angry red to dark pink. He was still as a statue.

"Why don't you go and clean yourself up," she suggested. She tugged gently at his arm until he stood. "When you're done I have some Dreamless Sleep potion for you."

"Thank you," Remus said hoarsely. She listened until she heard the shower running, then began to clear away the healing supplies and start something for Harry's breakfast. She did not think the rest of them would be able to stomach anything.

Out of the corner of her eye, she observed Sirius. He had barely said a word since they returned home, but she could tell something enormous and uncontrolled was growing rapidly. The tall animagus was unmoving by the table, but his shoulders were vibrating.

Then it exploded. With a roar of emotion, Sirius turned and punched the wall, hard. Lily did not even startle, too used to Sirius' sudden outbursts. Instead, she sighed in resignation and unpacked her healing supplies a second time.

There was a pounding on the stairs and James dashed into the kitchen, looking panicked. Harry was in his arms, wearing a diaper, and a shirt halfway over his head, giggling.

"No Death Eaters attacking us yet, James," Lily soothed. She went over and pulled the shirt the rest of the way onto Harry's body. She summoned the cooked eggs and a plate and placed them on the table. Far, far away from the horcrux.

"What's wrong? Remus okay?" James asked, eyeing Sirius, who was pacing like a caged lion, knuckles split and swollen.

"Emotions are high and… Remus will be fine. Physically."

"Physically…"

"Do you know how he was hurt?"

"No, he was like that when he met up again. He didn't explain and there wasn't time-"

"His dad is dead," Sirius bit out, harsh and guttural. "And he didn't say a fuc-"

"Sirius Black!" Lily threatened. Sirius' jaw glued shut, but his expression was still murderous. James face had paled several shades. "There's murtlap on the table. Use only a few drops, I'm nearly out and the apothecaries are… difficult to access right now. I'll set the bones in your hand once you're finished."

She moved to where Harry was and lifted him onto her lap. He leaned into her, still scooping eggs into his mouth with one hand. Between bites, he asked quietly, "When Wormy wake up?"

If possible, Lily's heart sank even further. She looked helplessly at James, who sighed and squatted down in front of Harry.

"Wormy's gone somewhere else, Harry," he explained in a low murmur.

"Where?"

"Um… someplace very special. Where the sun never sets and… and the grass is very green. He likes it there."

Harry considered James for several moments with large green eyes. Lily did too, wondering if he was right.

"Oh day," Harry said. "Moom's da likes it dere too?"

Across the room, Sirius' breath hitched. James' blinked hard and wetness sealed his eyelashes into black triangles. Lily moved her gaze up across the kitchen and saw Remus in the doorway, hair still dripping, the skin on his hands bright pink. He was wearing a fresh jumper and flannel pants and watching Harry with an odd expression.

"He thinks it's very peaceful there, Harry," he said quietly.

James jerked where he was crouched and stood.

"Remus-your dad-"

"Yeah," Remus exhaled. In the pale light coming through the windows, the shadows on his face, and the faces of James and Sirius, were deep. Remus explained with a single word. "Greyback."

"Did you kill him?" Sirius asked quietly.

Remus' gaze switched to Sirius with strange intensity. Then he shook his head. "Couldn't. He was unconscious and I just… I couldn't. Um… could we-could you explain what happened to Peter?"

Lily and Sirius took turns telling what happened. As they concluded, Lily took over, Sirius choosing to stare out into the backyard with a brooding expression.

"So he… he turned out, in the end," James said. His gaze was trained like a magnet on Harry, but his shoulders twitched in the direction of the living room.

"He did."

And then Lily's mind returned to the burning deliberation. Had Severus? _Snape told him about the prophecy. He was the one who overheard._ The realization was not yet able to morph into a more concrete feeling. There were too many emotions competing within her: grief for Remus, overwhelming joy that Harry was sitting in her lap unharmed, uncertainty over Peter, worry for James and Sirius, and the undercurrent of fear that plagued their daily lives. The fact that she could even name those warring parts of herself was a miracle.

Lily glanced at the three men in the room with her. None of them seemed to have reached the conclusion she had about Severus yet. But they were not stupid. They were simply distracted. She chewed her lip, wondering how they would react. She did not need to guess what Sirius would do. Perhaps a few months ago, James would want to rip Snape limb from limb. But the war had changed him, made him a better listener, more methodical and cautious. Remus… Remus was hard to predict.

The man in question looked dead on his feet. Lily quietly placed Harry on the bench. She made Remus some tea and added a few drops of Dreamless Sleep.

"Drink this, Remus. Take a few hours to rest and recover."

"I can't," Remus shook his head. "Voldemort will not be wasting any time. We have to act-"

"Moony," James interrupted. He took the tea from Lily and forced it into Remus' hands. "You need to take a moment. We can handle things for now."

Remus was unable to argue anymore. Any resolve he normally had was battered until it was thin as paper. With a small bob of his head, he turned towards his room.

Harry's eyelids were beginning to droop and he listed sideways. Lily expertly scooped him into her arms before he could topple to the floor.

"He's probably exhausted," Lily told James and Sirius. Harry lay his head on his shoulder, black hair tickling her cheek. "James… he wasn't hurt anywhere, was he?"

"No," James sighed in relief.

"Thank God," she sighed, something unclenching inside of her. "Peter mentioned that Voldemort couldn't touch him, but… I had to be sure."

"Did he?" James murmured. It was soft, almost like he was speaking to himself. Lily did not miss the quick glance to the hallway, but she could not decipher its meaning.

"Yes. His wards killed Peter, but Harry is just fine."

"Weird," Sirius muttered.

"You don't think that it's similar to…" she allowed the question to trail away. James said he had not spoken to Sirius about it yet.

"Perhaps…"

Lily looked between the two of them. "Well," she said. "I'm going to put Harry to bed."

"Okay," Sirius said. He and James waited in the kitchen until she left. As she climbed the creaking stairs, their low, indistinct voices drifted upwards. They had a lot to discuss about Voldemort's probable retaliation, in addition to the mystery of James and Harry escaping harm at Voldemort's hands. But, despite this, Lily knew that right now their conversation was floating into the realm of boyhood reminiscing and wondering where everything went wrong.

She lingered long in the nursery, watching Harry's stomach rise and fall with his breathing. Tearing herself away from the childlike universe of soft golden stars and plush toys was harder than ever. And leaving Harry was… much harder.

But she had something she needed to do.

"I'll be back soon," Lily told James and Sirius briefly. When they asked where she was going, she simply replied, "Hogwarts."

It was a Saturday, so the castle was sleeping in the early morning. Outside, a thin film of gray was pooling across the sky. It was a gloomy final day. Which was what Lily was starting to call it. The Final Day. Her gut was telling her that the end was coming.

The Marauder's Map revealed Severus to be in the Headmaster's quarters. Lily steeled herself as she briskly walked to the gargoyle. She let it come then, the anger like fire. The hurt like cold knives. The loss like emptiness. All of those were there before, old scars. Now they were new wounds, reopened and rubbed with salt.

When she entered Dumbledore's bedroom, it felt like a place of dying. Dumbledore lay transparent as a ghost. His veins were purple beneath skin of cellophane. His lips were blue and the see-through skin hung from his facial bones. Madame Pomfrey now had him under special spells to support his weakened lungs. He would not last much longer. This was the Final Day in more ways than one.

Severus was beside him, deep within some new attempt to dig past Dumbledore's shields. His lips moved silently and his brow was contorted. Lily paused in the doorway. He was so convincingly on their side that it stung. Even now she was not convinced that he was not trying to help.

As if sensing her entry, Severus' lips ceased their muttering and his dark eyes locked onto her. He said nothing, but Lily could see a muscle twitch in his jaw. Every emotion must be showing on her face and she hated that she could not be stoic like him at this moment.

"It was you who told him about the prophecy, wasn't it?" It sounded like someone other than her was speaking. "You're the reason he was hunting us."

It was like she was watching from outside her body. Snape remained silent, but somehow his empty eyes became emptier. It was enough of a confession.

Lily ran trembling hands over her face, trying to stop the burning in her eyes. "I don't even know why I feel so betrayed," she whispered. Then she laughed, bitterly. Snape flinched. "You have never failed to… you _always_ let me down, and I am so _stupid_ for always thinking you wouldn't."

"Lily I… I never wanted… I turned around because of you-"

"Don't," she snapped. The command rang through the dying room like a gunshot. Snape's teeth clicked shut. She inhaled through her nose. "I used to feel like I was the guilty one, that maybe I had somehow made you think that-" She stopped abruptly. Snape was white. She started again, voice soft. "I don't know what your feelings may be Severus, but I am not an object to be won."

"I never thought that," Snape replied in a choked voice. But it was convicted.

Quite suddenly, Lily felt the flame extinguish and all she had for the man before her was pity. She sighed heavily. "No… no you didn't. You never really thought at all, did you? You just… did."

"I… I don't know what you mean."

"Everything," she said, listlessly gesturing with her hand. "The day we finished our O.W.L.s, your decision to become a Death Eater, telling Voldemort the prophecy… it was impulse, bitter and unexamined. You never thought beyond your emotions."

"I have never been reckless." The defense was weakened by the way he looked at the floor instead of her.

"No," she agreed. "You've been thoughtless. For others and… and for yourself. You don't even know what you believe in, do you?"

The black eyes came back up to meet hers. The answer was written clearly in the shock. He opened his mouth but not a sound emitted. The burning behind Lily's eyelids began to fade. She was so exhausted. On the bed, Dumbledore lay without a word of encouragement or support. He would not be long in this depressing place.

"Peter is dead," she said, startling Snape. "He died saving Harry. It was a similar curse. It acted quickly, no changes in pace. Maledictum motus. Voldemort is driving it."

"There's no time to find the countercurse," Snape muttered absently.

"We'll have to finish Voldemort before Dumbledore succumbs to it then," Lily said. She studied Snape, whose hands were clenched and his black eyes in turmoil. She took a step away from him, towards the exit. Snape stood.

"Do the rest know? Potter and Black?"

A flash of anger.

"They haven't figured it out yet. But they will. And when they do I won't step in to defend you."

She took another step to the door.

"Wait."

She watched him coolly, but he seemed to have no idea what to say next. He stood hesitating on the brink. Then his left shoulder jerked and he inhaled sharply. Lips pressed tight, he grasped his forearm. Lily could imagine the pain lancing through the skin. It was similar to the adrenaline lancing through her veins and seizing her bones. Voldemort was gathering his forces.

She spoke, careful not to let her voice shake like her hands. "Peter chose to believe in something worth dying for, in the end. He may have been a coward for most of his life, but that was not a coward's death."

She glanced out the latticed window. The filmy clouds were becoming dark menaces.

"Voldemort will sweep over this place with a vengeance." Snape was breathing heavily, minuscule tremors skittering through his arms. But Lily's pity was eclipsed by the nearness of the threat of attack. "Either choose a side or leave. What do you believe in, Severus?"

And without waiting for an answer, she turned and left. The shadow of death hung over the castle. The rain began to fall.

* * *

a/n: I'm so sorry for killing Peter after everything! I know he still has a role to play in the Marauders' lives, but you'll see how it turns out. Also, some development for Snape! What is he going to choose...?


	33. From the Ashes (Sirius)

Hi there friends! It seriously makes my day when I get those special emails telling me I have a review. The dopamine in my brain goes crazy. You guys are great!

I'm posting later than usual in the day (to people in other time zones, this probably does not matter to you). Whew, finding time to write is really difficult, but I'm managing it. Barely. Which is why I'm really hoping that I hit everything in this chapter, because it's a big one. Hope you like!

-Cat

* * *

Chapter 33

 _From the Ashes (Sirius)_

When Sirius was seven years old, Bellatrix had showed him how to use the torture curse. There was a mutt in the alley behind Grimmauld Place, old and riddled with fleas. Sirius remembered the way its ribs jutted from its side like sharp ridges. " _You have to mean it, Sirius,"_ her voice hissed. She was older than him, much older, old enough that the trace was gone. He had always been terrified of her. There was something unnatural in the pleasure she took in another creature's pain.

When she demonstrated the curse, she had watched, mesmerized, as the silent dog writhed and twitched on the dirty ground. Sirius had not been able to watch. Bellatrix slapped him, hard enough that he fell into a puddle of greenish liquid. Sirius turned his head and saw the pain in the dog's eyes. He also saw the light fade from them when Bellatrix killed the dying creature.

" _Why'd you kill it?"_ he'd asked her.

" _It's life was worth nothing. Like the filthy muggles and mudbloods that roam so freely. Animals. Unlike us. One day, they will grovel as we pass."_

That was the day that Sirius stopped believing his family's values. It was the day that he became an outcast from the Blacks. And the day he vowed to never do dark magic. He shook his head. Another promise broken.

" _We solemnly swear…"_

Befriending James Potter and Remus Lupin had been his salvation. And… he paused, unsure whether to include Pettig-Peter. _Peter._

Peter was prone on the couch. Lily had put a temporary preserving charm on his body. He could be sleeping, except for the blue tint around his eyes and lips. Sirius swallowed with difficulty.

" _You don't have to forgive me."_ That's what Peter had said. His final words, diluted, lacking any oxygen. " _You don't have to forgive me."_

And Sirius had not said a word until it was too late.

Sirius wanted to laugh. Sirius wanted to cry.

He remembered that moment in Hogwarts, still reeling from Remus' capture, from his colossal mistake, when Lily forgave him. He had believed then that he would never have the strength. Did he now?

" _You don't have to forgive me."_

Peter's release of Sirius from that task made it clear that Peter thought Sirius could have been capable of forgiving him. Peter always believed Sirius could do anything when they were in school. Sirius had never thought to set him straight, too inflated with his own arrogance.

"You're wrong, Pete," he whispered to the body. Letting go of something that… horrible. It was a task that was nearly insurmountable. Futile, too, because Peter was dead. "I don't think I could have."

And Peter said he didn't have to do it.

Sirius was almost insulted, in an ironic way. Because every ounce of that old arrogance had burned away with his mistakes. Forgiving Peter was the only good thing he could do right now. His soul was dangerously teetering, dark magic and never-ending anger smoldering the edge. He could almost feel the abyss at his toes, readying to swallow him. He was thirsty for goodness. But he couldn't drink.

"Peter-" he started again.

But again, he was interrupted. Lily entered, facial muscles tense. She had left a little over an hour ago, refusing to tell them what she had needed to do.

"Sirius, you need to come into the kitchen. Now."

Sirius followed her, sparing Peter's body a half-glance. He would have to remain chained to that unfinished business with the dead man for now.

In the kitchen, James was pacing by the stove and Remus was awake, leaning against the windows to the backyard with his arms crossed. His expression was blank. James' was thunderous.

"That venomous, snivelling, double-crossing bastard!" he was saying. Sirius raised an eyebrow at Remus, who did not even blink. He did not try and calm James either, which was unusual. Sirius could tell by the tight skin on his brow, however, that he was struggling to come to a decision.

"Who?" Sirius asked.

"Snape," James spat.

And that was when Sirius remembered. " _He is the reason I will kill your son and end this prophecy."_ Snape was the reason. His blood began to simmer. Snape was the reason that…Snape told- "THAT FUC-"

"Stop it, both of you!" Lily snapped. "You have every right to be angry, but frankly, it's not going to help us right now. It's too late to change anything he did."

"He pretended to be on our side for _months!_ " James raged.

Against the window, Remus twitched. But Sirius barely noticed.

"How can you be so calm?!" he demanded loudly of Lily.

"You seriously think that I just let it go?" she snorted with bitter humor. "I already spoke with Severus. I've had time to cool off and get some perspective."

"You _talked_ to him?!"

"Yes," Lily replied icily. "And frankly, he's the least of our problems. In case you've forgotten, Voldemort promised to rain his wrath down on us. He's summoning his forces."

James took a deep, calming breath. Sirius tried fiercely to emulate him, but the monstrous boiling desire to tear Snape limb from limb was like fiendfyre. _Cessare facium ex igne demonum,_ he chanted in his mind.

"Where do we think he'll strike?" Remus' quiet voice cut through Sirius' thoughts.

"Hogwarts or Hogsmeade," James sighed. "They're the only places left standing."

"The students…" Lily murmured. "We have to warn Minerva."

A light streaked into the kitchen as if summoned by Lily's words. Silver glow danced over their faces, making them look like phantoms. The shadows deepened into blackness. The patronus twisted, liquid and feline.

" _He is coming to Hogwarts. Gather the Order. The castle must not fall."_

The tense voice of the Headmistress battered them like stone. The silence in the kitchen was like the death of sound after an avalanche. Sirius felt something like true fear rising in his chest. The Order of the Phoenix would not be able to hold the castle for long. Voldemort was too strong. They had to get the students out. But where would they go?

"I'll start alerting the Order," James managed to say. Sirius looked at his friend, who was white, hair even messier than usual. As scared as he felt.

"Wait…" Sirius muttered. His blood was pumping faster. His thoughts whirled, trying to come up with possible strategies. _We can't let Voldemort near that castle if we can help it_. They could draw Voldemort elsewhere, away from the students of Hogwarts. _How, how, how…_

"Padfoot?" Remus questioned. Sirius realized he'd been quiet too long.

"We have to try and get him away from the school," Sirius said out loud, mind still racing. Remus nodded slowly in obvious agreement. Sirius' gaze landed on the golden cup that was still on the table, dull in the dim light. "The horcruxes… do we have them all?"

"As far as we know," Remus answered. He moved away from the window. "What are you thinking?"

"We can't go far," Sirius thought out loud. "We have to make sure Voldemort knows what we're up to. But what if… what if we evacuate the villagers of Hogsmeade instead? Send them elsewhere, to the castle if they have no place to go. We can draw Voldemort to Hogsmeade-"

"Using the horcruxes?" James caught on. But his expression was dubious. "Then what? If we're outnumbered, which we probably are, he'll crush us all and take them back."

"True," Sirius agreed, heart pounding, lips stretched in a feral grin. "But not if we crush them first."

James did not seem to find this statement as impressive as Sirius thought he would. He crossed his arms and his hazel eyes darkened. It was in that moment that Sirius realized how much Harry's kidnapping had changed his friend. The old James would have been excited, would have immediately realized that Sirius had a way to destroy the horcruxes. He would have rallied.

Remus was coming to the same conclusion as Sirius, but was faster to speak. "Sirius has a way to destroy the horcruxes," he clarified measuredly.

"What if we don't have them all?" James countered, the shadow still over his eyes. "What if there's more?"

"We don't have much of a choice," Sirius replied hotly, annoyed despite his sympathy. "We have to do something."

"And if we're wrong?" James asked. "We'll all be killed."

"Well I'd rather die fighting than waiting around for knowledge we may never have," Sirius snapped.

"I'm thinking about my son!"

"And I am too! I'm thinking about the future of the wizarding world!"

"Do you think I don't care about-"

" _Enough!_ "

This time it was Remus that broke into James and Sirius' heated exchange, both physically and with his snarled shout. Sirius was suddenly aware of how tall he was, standing between the two of them like a blockade. Remus' spine was straighter than it had been in years, no longer bent down. Sirius had not seen it at first because of the pall of grief, but now he noticed something. Remus was _more_ after the Riddle House. He was filling up the room with his whole nature, the man and the deep wilds of the wolf.

"Listen to yourselves," Remus ordered. His voice was soft as ever, but he might as well have been shouting. His words rang inside the room. Sirius actually looked down at his shoes. He raked through his memory, but he did not think he had ever experienced the whole of Remus before. It was intense.

"I know that you are exhausted and afraid, but if you let that rule you, you will destroy yourselves." Remus took a deep breath. "Sirius' plan is a good one, if a little underdeveloped. James, your reservations are a very real concern. We cannot be completely sure that we have all the horcruxes. We'll just have to hope we do, and if not we'll make a backup plan. And we're _not_ going to stop fighting, because we've damn well come this far. We have no choice but to believe that the light will win in the end."

Finally, Remus slowly diminished into his normal state. He seemed small, but not beaten. Sirius and James were speechless.

"Die before we fall, James," Lily whispered softly into the aftermath. Sirius did not understand what it meant, but James' head lifted slightly.

"Okay," he murmured. He did not look at Sirius. "Okay."

"Good," said Remus. And, amazingly, refreshingly, his lips curved into a genuine smile. "We'll make this a fight the dark will never forget."

* * *

There were plans to be made, and quickly. Lily sent a patronus to McGonagall to let her know the plan. James had rallied himself, as if doubt was not even a flicker in his mind. His steady determination was rekindled. He started by contacting everyone he could think of, beginning with the members of the Order of the Phoenix. Predicaments rose and were solved, some with more difficulty than others. Moody arrived in their living room only ten minutes after McGonagall's original patronus.

"Been scouting," he said gruffly. He had reacted badly to the sight of Peter Pettigrew's body on the couch. After they had managed to convince the paranoid auror that Peter really was dead (and died trying to do what was right), he had sniffed doubtfully, but began to make a report that started their first round of problems.

"The Death Eaters are arriving by the dozens. They've made no attempt to breach the wards, but You-Know-Who has amassed an army of dark wizards. Even with the order and the old aurors I've managed to contact, we'll be severely outnumbered."

The single blue eye was fixed on James, who was pale.

"I know," James sighed. "But we can't let Hogwarts be taken. We'll have to be creative with our resources."

"I think I know of some neutral werewolves who I could convince to help," Remus said quietly.

"Didn't you already try that?" Sirius pointed out.

"I did, but things have changed. I think they might be more willing now." Remus did not explain why, but Sirius knew. The werewolves had seen what Voldemort was capable, realized that he would break his promise.

"Good. The more the merrier," grunted Mad-Eye.

"We need a safe place for the children," Lily said suddenly.

"The students?" Sirius asked. "We're hoping the castle will be enough…"

"No, the young ones. Harry, Neville, the Weasley kids…"

Sirius felt sour fear at her words. _The castle will be enough… right?_ It was easy to assume so when he was distant from the people inside. But Harry…they had gotten so close to losing him already. He hated to be the one to suggest it, but he opened his mouth anyway. "We'll have to trust Hogwarts. Maybe Madame Pomfrey can organize a few students to watch them?"

The notion sounded absurd. Like some kind of morbid day-care roulette. Whose parents would be alive to pick them up at the end of the day?

"We'll have aurors in the castle too," James said decisively. "I'll have some specifically guarding the hospital wing. It'll have to work."

From there, the plans had to be finalized with rapidity. Remus disapparated from the front porch. Lily went upstairs to collect Harry and pack a bag of toys for him. James went with Mad-Eye to recruit.

Sirius watched them go, a gnawing in the pit of his stomach. He knew he and James needed to talk. It wasn't like them to argue, but the tension was beginning to snap at unexpected times.

 _This is a fool's errand,_ his brain whispered. People were going to die today, Sirius could feel it in every fiber of his body. He glanced at where Peter lay on the couch, finally at peace in death. A conversation from so long ago in the Godric's Hollow kitchen was playing in his mind.

" _Wish it could be that easy, you know? To just…"_

" _Run away?"_

" _Yeah."_

Sirius had been dismissive of Peter then. He understood better now. And he wondered how many people were wishing the exact same thing.

With a heavy swallow, he left Peter in the sitting room and descended into the cellar to retrieve the horcruxes. As he lifted the trunk, he prayed that these were the only ones.

* * *

This is what shocked Sirius: the streets of Hogsmeade were not abandoned. Sirius had learned the hard way to not trust that there was goodness in other people. In fact, he had learned to treat them as empty first, then be pleasantly surprised to find strength. So he was shocked. No one had run away.

The streets of Hogsmeade were full. Even though the sky was falling.

With wide eyes, Sirius scanned their fullness. The people were drenched, but in Sirius' mind, the deluge could have been sunshine. Mad-Eye Moody was gruffly speaking to a group of rag-tag aurors come out of hiding. The Longbottoms whispered to each other, looking odd without Neville nearby. The children had already been gathered in the hospital wing, under the guard of Madame Pomfrey, Ava Finch, and the squadron of aurors assembled by James. Emmeline Vance and Edgar Bones were outside the Three Broomsticks, as well as Dedalus Diggle and Madame Rosmerta. Elphias Doge was scampering through the rain to speak to Sturgis Podmore and a group of ministry witches. Aberforth Dumbledore was lumbering up the road with several other Order members. Seventh year students were emerging from Honeydukes, guided by Professor Coelus. All of the passages would be blocked or collapsed once everyone was through. Professor Flitwick guided several other teachers in erecting more and more wards. By Zonko's, the Weasley's twin flames of hair still glowed through the curtains of water.

And besides these, there were faces that he did not recognize. Staunch villagers, muggle-borns, and blood-traitors that had been living in Hogsmeade. A huddled group of scarred, ragged individuals, watching the people around them uncomfortably. Werewolves, friends of Remus. Strangers all. Ones with hope in their gait and determination in their eyes, all gathered within an hour. Sirius pushed down the feeling that they had sentenced them to a meaningless death.

Because one thing had not shocked Sirius. He had seen the horde of dark witches and wizards gathering beyond the wards. If possible, Mad-Eye had been conservative when he described their numbers. And the horde was moving this way attracted by the activity, skirting along the tall magical walls built by Flitwick and the teachers. The dark cloaks rippled behind the shield in the mist. They made no move to attack, merely watched, occasionally jeering at their small force.

"The horcruxes are in the Shack," said Remus' hoarse voice at his shoulder. "Lily is guarding them. James delivers our message to Voldemort in nine minutes. You'll be ready by then?"

Sirius' fingers itched as he nodded. He would be ready, he thought grimly, watching the sea of black. In another life, that could have been him. But not here.

He swept away, large raindrops pattering on his hood, boots squelching in the mud. The sky was growing forbidding, the iron underbellies of the clouds ominously closing in. And around Hogsmeade and Hogwarts, shields like fins of pale light stabbed upwards, cutting into the clouds.

The hike up the hill to the Shack was quick in the electrified atmosphere. Sirius checked the time. Seven minutes until James sent the patronus that could condemn them all. Sirius could not resent James' moment of doubt, as it was a constant parasite chilling his blood. But they still had not had a chance to talk since their argument in the kitchen. Sirius glanced back.

Through the heavy gray, James was a dark figure at the head of their meager, miraculous force. Sirius wondered what he was saying to them, if words could really give courage.

Then he continued on. Lily met him outside the Shack when the first bolt of lightning ripped apart the sky and cracked against the shields. The trees were illuminated like bones, then an earth-shattering boom followed.

Together, Lily and Sirius carried the trunk halfway to the eaves of town. Lily produced the keys and unlocked the trunk. Five pieces of Voldemort were set upon the spongy grass.

"You should go," Sirius told her. "If something goes wrong, I'd rather you not be in the line of fire. Literally."

The corner of Lily's mouth twitched. The rain had plastered her dark red hair to her face. She stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around him.

"See you on the other side," she murmured in his ear.

And then her warmth was gone and Sirius was left with his demons clamoring to be set free. There was more lightning, and then, a streak of silver shot through the fins of light, seeking the Dark Lord to deliver their message. That the horcruxes were here. And that they intended to destroy them all.

It took only seconds.

A plume of jet smoke reared from behind the trees, flying towards them through the forest of lightning and thunder. Sirius turned away and faced the five objects on the ground. He was running out of time.

" _Do you really think you can kill me?"_

The question was a sinister plague that grinded against Sirius' eardrums. His heart leapt into his throat. It sounded as though Voldemort was whispering right into his ears. But a quick check showed the white face on the other side of the wards where James was standing. Shaking himself, Sirius focused past the voice.

" _I will soak the ground with the blood of your followers. Surrender now and all will be spared…"_

Sirius' anger rose hot, but he willed it be controlled, austere. He prepared himself, mentally reaching down, down down. Sickening and unscrupulous, his own darkness was a rash compulsion, killing friendships and hopes without a thought. He held grudges, could not let go or see humanity in others. Ugly words and thoughts. But these were _his_ to live with. They would not rule him. He would not fall. Sirius clenched his jaw. He could not fail now.

" _If you do not, I promise you will watch as I tear everyone you love apart…"_

He was Sirius Black. He was one of the few members of the family of Death Eaters that fought for the light.

He was an island of fire.

"Incendio diaboli!"

The inferno that erupted from his wand was towering and enormous. It spiraled up to the bellies of the clouds, evaporating the rain into a hissing fog. Sirius stumbled, but held his wand steady. A scorching beast with scintillating wings.

Screams echoed up the hill, but Sirius barely heard. He watched with awe, flames burning his pupils. It was a huge phoenix, burning bright as a star. At its feet, the horcruxes were as insignificant as pebbles: a locket, a ring, a journal, a diadem, and a golden cup.

They glimmered red and then brilliant white in an avalanche of lightning. There was an shattering boom that shook the earth. The last walls of protection were obliterated and the Death Eaters poured in like ants.

Sirius did not need to look to know that Voldemort was accelerating up the hill towards him. The hair on the back of his neck stood up.

" _NO!"_ Voldemort screeched.

Sirius directed the phoenix down.

The conflagration dove into the ground, splashing across the horcruxes like a tidal wave. Sirius hurled himself away, feeling the heat blast across his back. His ears popped with a wrenching shriek that reverberated through the air. Smoke stung his eyes and billowed around him like a dark cloud. He could not or hear anything for several seconds.

Then he rolled and stood, squinting through the ash and dust. His phoenix glowed like lava through the smog, pulsing red. And twisted and blackened, the horcruxes lay in ruins.

Sirius' triumph lasted about a quarter of a second.

Something rammed into his side like a bull, propelling him downhill. He tumbled to the edge of the growing battle, gasping for breath, miraculously still gripping his wand. A moment of shock, then he leapt upright, ignoring the shooting pain in his right wrist.

Voldemort was descending, wand outstretched and nostrils flared. Behind him, the fiendfyre was splitting, multiplying. Wheezing, Sirius struggled to regain control. His emotions were wild with adrenaline. He could feel anger and terror breaking its cooled bonds, though it barely sizzled compared to the cosmic hell in the snake-like eyes pinning him.

 _Come on, Padfoot,_ he thought fiercely, reining the fire in. It flowed down towards him like a river, powerful and almost beautiful in how perilous it was. Voldemort vanished before it reached him, but several Death Eaters were caught, screaming as they were burned. Sirius' demons leapt with glee.

 _You have to stop it,_ said his inner voice. It sounded weak compared to the encouragement of his demons. _If you don't, it will destroy everything. You've completed your task._

A manic cackle reached through his thoughts. Bellatrix, cavorting through the fighters, killing as she went.

"Oh Siri-poo, what have you done?!" she laughed in delight. Her wild eyes reflected the fire like twin sparks. "Avada Kedavra!"

Sirius dodged.

"Flirting with the dark arts, cousin? Naughty." Her delight rang across the roar of battle.

" _You have to mean it, Sirius."_ Sirius shook her hissing voice out of his head.

Then suddenly, with a crack, she was whirling into existence behind him. He spun. She had a wide, insane grin on her face. His hatred of her rose easily, reaching through the connection he had with the dark magic. The fiendfyre flared high, white-hot.

 _Stop it, Sirius!_

He was distracted. Bellatrix was giggling madly, shooting hexes at his clumsy shields. They locked eyes.

"Padfoot!" came James' warning yell from over the fighters. Sirius spun again. Voldemort was suddenly at his right, coming quickly like a striking snake. Sirius backed up a step, Bellatrix nearly forgotten in his panic.

A flaming basilisk traced a quick path between him and the dark wizard. The undulating flames were intoxicating to watch. Powerful… he could not stop them, they were his best defense.

There was a shrieked word from Bellatrix, and everything that followed happened too quickly. He saw the spell out of the corner of his eye. His heart skipped a beat and with a _whoosh_ of fire, Bellatrix was consumed by a chimera. Her laughter was cut off, and she was dust before she could scream.

But her spell's aim was true. It hit Sirius, breaking his arm completely. He shouted in pain and the fiendfyre flared its displeasure.

"Sirius, you have to stop them before we all get incinerated!" James' voice hollered.

Voldemort was approaching. Panting, Sirius' mind clarified in the stabbing pain. If he was killed here, no one could stop the fiendfyre.

"Cessare facium ex igne demonum!" he cried, both in desperation and in pain as he stretched his broken arm to the fire. The flames sputtered, but did not extinguish. "Argh, come on! Cessare facium ex igne demonum!"

The shadows grew darker, the conflagration lessened even more. Orange danced across the soaked buildings and people, the only light in the heavy storm.

The black-shrouded figure with the bone white face was there again, mouth a thin line of murderous fury. Sirius was the one who destroyed the pieces of his soul. But Sirius did not feel any fear now. Nor was there anger. Instead, he felt a steady glow of hope.

Those were the last pieces, he was certain as he met the Dark Lord's gaze. A dull, imminent terror dampened the crimson-stained irises. Voldemort was afraid.

The spider-like hand raised his wand towards Sirius. The fiendfyre still burned, but Sirius would stop it this time. He had no choice. Time was running short.

He gave Voldemort one last, cocky, Sirius Black grin.

"Cessare facium ex igne demonum."

The warm light of the fiendfyre was doused. Sirius had an instant of satisfaction. After, in rapid succession: a blinding flash, swift agony, and then nothing.

* * *

a/n: Review please! Feed my dopamine-starved brain ;) Until next time!


	34. Upon This Place (James)

Hi! I'm back! Also you guys really delivered with your reviews! Really, it made me so excited to post this chapter. Finally the answers to all your burning questions below...

(also clarification: Sirius was midway between the Shrieking Shack and Hogsmeade when he destroyed the horcruxes, so the Shack is still intact.)

-Cat

* * *

Chapter 34

 _Upon This Place (James)_

It happened too fast.

There was an anguished yell.

James' legs pounded, jarring against the ground. Voldemort smirked and was gone, but it did not matter where he went. Sirius was…

The yell was his, James realized. Sirius had not made a sound, simply crumbled like a broken statue. The fissure of lightning was still tattooed against James' eyelids. He could still see it, hitting Sirius over and over and over…

His kneecaps collided with slick stones. Sirius' cloak was smoking gently and his eyes were closed. A strange, labyrinthine burn was visible beneath his collar, winding up his neck and disappearing down his shirt. Feeling numb, James pressed two fingers to the other side of Sirius' neck.

Nothing. Not even a flutter.

"No, no, no. Padfoot, come on…"

James shook him, and his head lolled against the ground. His black hair was soaked and rain pattered against his face.

Then Lily was there.

"James, move," she whispered.

"I can't-I can't leave him here," he muttered. "We need to…"

"His heart's stopped," Lily continued, her voice soft.

"No," James denied, louder. "It hasn't. He can't be dead. He has to… he _needs_ to finish this."

"James, you need to move away from him, let me get closer-"

"I'm not moving!" he shouted. Some part of him knew he was being ridiculous. Spells were cracking overhead, the battle still fierce. Shouting was garbled. Everything seemed to be in slow motion, as if time had ceased to matter. James blinked water out of his eyes, realizing that their were moving shapes circling them. Order members had surrounded them, guarding them where they knelt.

"James!" Lily grabbed his arm and actually pushed him backwards. He landed hard in a puddle. "Stay back," she commanded. Shock held him down. She was moving her wand in circles around Sirius. James rubbed rain from his eyes and realized she was drying a hasty ring around his friend's body.

"What are you-"

"I'm trying to save his life."

James' own heart nearly stopped. Lily aimed her wand directly at Sirius' chest. "Fulgure," she said fiercely. Another bolt of lightning, brilliant blue, shot from her wand into his chest. James shouted in surprise. Sirius could not take that much voltage twice in a row, what was she thinking?

A few seconds passed.

Then a rattling hiss of intaken breath. Lily pressed her fingers to the undamaged side of his neck. Her shoulders realized infinitesimally.

"Thready, but there." Her face was bone-white, eyes red-rimmed, but she smiled.

James let out a breath he did not realize was caught in his lungs. Sirius was alive.

"We need to get him out of here," James stuttered. He conjured a stretcher and levitated Sirius onto it. Suddenly the volume of battle returned as if they had exited a vacuum. Everything was too loud, too confused. James levitated the stretcher and ran with it to Honeydukes. Lily covered him, throwing up shields and hurling spells at Death Eaters and Greyback's werewolves. Frank joined her outside of the sweet shop, guarding the door so that she could duck inside with James.

The shop was littered with spilled Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, fizzing whizbees, and blood lollipops. The sharp sweet odor of burning sugar stung James' nostrils. But the Death Eaters had not penetrated the little store. Even if they had, the passageway to the castle was blocked. The only way to Hogwarts now was the established walking path that all the students took from the castle.

James and Lily lay Sirius out of sight in one of the back rooms. His chest was rising and falling shallowly. His face was frighteningly slack, lacking the usual energy and grace. James' initial relief was giving way to steady panic. Sirius was not out of the woods yet.

"Will he be okay?"

"I…" Lily trailed off, looking down at him and chewing her lip. "I don't know. What I did was a risk, I've rarely seen it done at St. Mungo's. Using electricity to restart a heart is a method in muggle medicine. It worked, but… I'm not sure what kind of damage he's sustained."

"We have to finish this quickly then," James muttered. A rainbow of lights were flashing across the windowpanes. The sounds of shouts and screams were muffled. He looked back at Sirius, pale face shrouded in shadows. "We can't leave him here alone…"

A loud bang, followed by wails of fear. Poisonous green smoke filled the windows, swelling against them like a tide. Through it, vague shapes were running.

"I'm not sure we have a choice, James," Lily whispered. He met her gaze with horrified agreement. In the muted glimmers, her eyes were dark emerald. "We're outnumbered. Everyone has to fight to keep him out of Hogwarts. And… and the people here rallied around you. We need you out there."

James squeezed his eyes shut, hating the feeling that he was leaving Sirius behind forever. He wanted nothing more than to be forgotten by the rest of the world, left in peace to worry about-mourn-his friend. But Voldemort had vanished for a reason. He was probably now fighting on the Hogwarts front, pushing to disable the wards and enter the final sanctuary. Harry was in there…

"Okay."

He stepped around the counter, candy wrappers crackling beneath his trainers. Leaving Sirius behind felt like betrayal. Like physical pain.

"Wait, James." Lily grabbed his shoulder and spun him towards her. Before James could say a word, she kissed him softly on the mouth. For a moment, everything stopped. Then she broke away and leaned her forehead against his chest.

"Just in case…" she murmured. "Love you."

He hugged her close.

"Love you too, Lils."

He took one final look at Sirius, drinking in the sight of him alive. Vague deja vu swelled in his chest, remembering that Christmas night. He shuddered.

"This will end differently, Padfoot," he promised. Then, together, he and Lily burst out into the hazy battle beneath dark skies.

James' brain could barely process as they bludgeoned their way along the path to Hogwarts. The density of fighters was steadily increasing as they went. As well as the number of bodies to trip over. Alive or dead, James could not tell. The variety of enemies was changing as well. James ducked as a giant swung a club the size of an elm tree at his head. An icy chill of despair was creeping into his veins…

"Expecto patronum!" shouted Lily next to him. A silvery doe bounded forward, dividing a swarm of dementors and creating a passage for them to run along.

The specters thickened in a black cloud above, a million times more horrific than the storm that raged, charged by some dark force. More patronuses danced about the battle, tiny stars of light.

Between the pouring rain, the strobe of flashing spells, the shouts and screams, and the noxious smell of blood, the race to the front of the battle was disorientating. Every once and awhile, James would recognize someone: Moody roaring as he dueled both Carrows at once, Aberforth leading a volley of stunners at a giant, the Longbottoms locked in a match with Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange.

There were more joining their side too. James was shocked to see centaurs firing their arrows into the melee, accurately aimed at the Death Eaters and feral werewolves. Eerie, skeletal horses with leathery wings were diving with dangerous accuracy at the dark wizards. Other witches and wizards were apparating at the edges, their battle-cries being the names of their dead loved ones. And through it all, an undercurrent of fear. Where was Remus?

But James' focus was now centered on bright gold cracks spider-webbing from an epicenter in an invisible wall. James pushed forward. The battle appeared to abruptly end against a pale translucence, as if cut off by a knife. He wished he could get a bird's-eye view of the fight. He had a feeling that the Death Eaters had them pinned against the Hogwarts wards, surrounding them like a consuming tar.

He blasted Dolohov out of his path. With the larger Death Eater's bulk gone, James could now see the Dark Lord, his white head gleaming like a skull. He was guarded on all sides by his followers, all of his will bent on the barrier. The cracks originated from a needle-thin beam from his wand.

"That's not going to last much longer," Lily yelled into his ear.

James' brain accelerated to lightspeed. When the wards fell, they could not let the Death Eaters cut them off from the castle. They would be slaughtered, and the students inside would have no defense. He scanned around him and picked out a few aurors that he trusted.

"Scrimgeour!" he shouted to the nearest one. The lion-haired wizard was blowing in and out heavily, but acknowledged James with a quick look. James motioned to the weakening shields. "Those aren't going to last long. When they go down, we have to charge the castle. It's our last defense. We need to get in there before they do!"

"How long do you think the fortress will last against this?" Scrimgeour asked.

James glanced at Lily for an answer. For the first time, he regretted not reading _Hogwarts, A History._ A twinkle in her eyes told him that had they not been in the midst of a battle, she would have teased him for it.

"It will hold for a little while. The castle has enchantments built into the architecture." She paused to hex another enemy. "Long enough to give us an opening to cut off the head of the snake."

Scrimgeour's amber eyes narrowed dubiously, but he nodded. "How do you propose we spread the message?" he asked gruffly.

"We can't quite, but we can hold off the Death Eaters and get everyone else to run. Use shield charms and blasting hexes and whatever else we can think of. Create a gauntlet for us to run. Lily, you should lead the charge. Hopefully everyone else out of range will figure it out."

Lily nodded quickly.

"And You-Know-Who?"

"I can hold him long enough," James said grimly, meeting Lily's eyes. Echoing Remus' words made his gut clench painfully. He understood now, the power of what Remus did that night. He understood the moment he felt Remus' magic on the edges of the Riddle House wards. Remus felt like the ocean, vast and untamed. Sometimes calm and sometimes wild. It was the same magic that wrapped around him and deflected the killing curse in the Ministry. Voldemort would not be able to harm him.

 _Where are you Moony?_

"Who should I recruit to help?" Scrimgeour asked.

James shook away his worry and listed the aurors in the immediate vicinity. "And get Mad-Eye if you can find him. And the Longbottoms."

Scrimgeour took off. Thunder was beginning to rumble ominously overhead. The frequency of nature's electrified forks was increasing rapidly. A sound like stones cracking…

Then everything stopped, all sound disappeared. The rain, the thunder, the lightning. Fighters paused in confusion, looking up at the chasmic roof of clouds. An earsplitting _BANG_ rent the atmosphere.

James saw the heads of the crowd instinctively duck, and over the lower plane, James could see an enormous hole, widening in the dome over Hogwarts. And before it, Voldemort's head floated like a grotesque balloon.

"Now!" James shouted, while nonverbally casting a strong _Arresto Momentum!_ As his aurors surged forward, Lily in the lead calling for the others to follow, Voldemort remained stationary. James felt his face stretch in a satisfied smirk. Knowing, however, that it would not last long, James sprinted towards his opponent.

Rabastan reached the Dark Lord first, disabling James' freezing charm. Then, together, the servant and the dark wizard turned to James. _Merlin's saggy left-_

He dove right and rolled, narrowly avoiding two killing curses. Well, his plans rarely went exactly as he thought they would. He'd expected some side attacks from other Death Eaters, but Rabastan was different. He was psychotic and relentless, much like his dead sister-in-law. And he practically worshipped Voldemort.

James rolled again, a killing curse leaving a smoking crater where he had just been laying. He responded with a low tripping curse, that raced across the ground like a scythe. Several running Death Eaters stumbled, but Voldemort dissipated it with a slash of his wand. James ground his teeth, struggling to concentrate on his current foes.

The battle was rushing towards the castle like a giant, writhing beast, leaving James and the Dark Lord and his inner circle. Another man appeared behind Rabastan. He was young, with sandy blond hair. Barty Crouch's son. James had no time to be surprised. He was trapped on the edge of Hogsmeade, the bloody ground of the newly slain.

He switched tactics. He could no longer be on the offensive against the three wizards and whatever invisible Death Eaters that had remained in the fringes of the dark. His limbs were shaking with exhaustion, but he managed to hurl himself behind a fallen giant. Wheezing for breath, he gripped his wand with white knuckles. The blasts of spells on the giant's thick skin rippled his hair.

Was this his final stand? Would he see Lily again?

She burst into his head, clear and fierce. Coughing, he inhaled deeply and blindly crawled along the smelly body until he could see over the fleshy ear. Voldemort was watching, amused as his two Death Eaters peppered James' hiding place with spells. Around them, the rest of the dark army was rushing like a river towards the castle. If only he could get a better shot of the dark wizard…

Suddenly, James felt a strong arm grasp his and lift him straight up into the air. His organs dropped with momentum and he cried out in surprise. He felt himself swing around and land awkwardly on a rolling, unsteady surface covered with golden fur.

"We must hurry, James Potter, or we will be overrun," rumbled a smooth voice. James' eyes were wide with shock. A centaur. He had swept up from behind and now was galloping full tilt outside the range of the Death Eaters and Voldemort. His sleek palomino body rocked beneath him, transitioning smoothly to fair skin. The centaur's hair was flaxen blond. One of his flanks was sticky with blood, but there was not even a hitch in his gait.

"Wait," James gabbled. They were flying past trees, catching glimpses of pursuing foes. "Vold-"

"You cannot face him alone," the centaur said cryptically.

James couldn't think of a response. He barely had time to marvel at the fact the centaur was allowing him to ride to the castle. A spell whizzed by his ear, reminding him what they were running from. James twisted on the centaur's back and returned fire, as well as blocking three more spells.

Then they burst out from the trees into the midst.

"Damn," James panted. They were pounding through a wave of Death Eaters and towering giants surging up the steep slopes. They were barreling through more, toppling them like bowling pins as they neared Hogwarts. By the time the wizards could react to the centaur ramming through their forces, James had a shield conjured to block any retaliation.

The number of Death Eaters was enormous. From the centaur's back, James could see them spread out across the hill like ants. But the centaur was running faster. They were catching up with their companions, who were rushing ahead of the dark forces. James was struck by the realization that he never would have made it without the centaur. "Thanks, uh-"

"Firenze," the centaur responded shortly between bellowing breaths.

The castle was looming over them. The setting sun had found a break between the clouds and the earth and was splashing the stones with red. James had the strangest impression that he and Firenze were stationary as the castle rushed up to meet them on the battlefield. The great wooden doors were open. The masses were rushing inside, chased by night. James and Firenze were the last, before the doors closed with a crash and sealed them in.

* * *

"We need to move the children out of the castle."

"How? They've blocked all the exits. We're trapped here. And it won't be long before they break through that door."

"We'll find a way!"

"What the hell do you plan to do?"

"Face it, we're damned here-"

"ENOUGH!"

James' magically enhanced voice echoed through the Entrance Hall. Silence settled like a blanket. An itchy, uncomfortable blanket. All eyes fell on him, where he stood five steps up on one of the many staircases. He swallowed hard.

"Listen," he said, quieter. No, he did not have a plan, but he had a start. "This castle is not our enemy. It has a life of its own and it cares for the children it protects. We will find a way to evacuate the students safely. Arthur?"

Arthur Weasley looked up from where he was gently dabbing at a bloody gash on Molly's forehead. "James?"

"The Room of Requirement might be a good start. Go to the seventh floor corridor and see if it will provide an escape route. Minerva, gather the Heads of Houses and get them to lead their students there. If that does not work… we'll use the floo if we have too."

Minerva and Arthur nodded and pushed through the crowd.

"Look, Potter," said a man that James recognized from the Ministry. "It's not that we don't trust you but… I thought there'd be more of a plan."

James felt the weight of a hundred questioning stares. Outside the great doors, there was a series of booms like thunder. He inhaled shakily.

"You may have overestimated my ability to predict what would happen here today. Kill Voldemort is the plan. Everything else must change around that." Even to his ears, this sounded too uncertain to be comforting.

"What about the lives of our children?" demanded a middle-aged witch from the Department of Magical Transportation.

He clenched his fists, struggling to rein in his fears, awoken by such a simple question. "Of course I am not asking you to stay. But fighting today may be the only thing that will ensure a better future for our children. I know you're concerned, I… I _know_." He rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to hide the wave of crippling anxiety. "My own son is in the hospital wing right now, with everyone else's sons and daughters."

Lily was by his side again like an anchor. The volume of the attacks on their final sanctuary was increasing. "We have limited time," she said. Her melodious voice had a cooling effect on the restless crowd. "Let's focus on preparing for the inevitable. Right now, we have no choice but to fight for our children. And in this case, our advantage is only hope."

Solemn murmurs rose and fighters dispersed. James relaxed slightly as the attention moved away from him. Moody began barking orders at aurors, who began shoring up layers of defensive magic and traps for the Death Eaters when they broke through. The wounded were helped deeper into the castle, and someone was sent for Madame Pomfrey.

From his vantage point on the stairs, James scanned the heads, but could not see Remus. His stomach churned, _what ifs_ filling him like an anesthetic, pulling him downwards. What if the Death Eaters in Hogsmeade found Sirius? What if Remus was lying somewhere on the grounds, dying alone? What if they were both dead?

"James!"

James shook his head. Arthur was pushing his way down the stairs. And his expression was a wide smile.

"The Room of Requirement created a new passageway! I don't know where it goes, but hopefully far from here. Minerva and the Heads of House are gathering their students now."

"Thank Merlin," James sighed. "Get Molly to gather some volunteers. We're going to need help moving the younger children from the hospital wing."

James could no longer resist pull on his entire being, willing him to check on Harry, to see him alive and bright-eyed. He took Lily's hand and they climbed through the halls of Hogwarts towards the infirmary. Ava Finch was waiting outside, several young auror trainees around her. She nodded at James and let him and Lily pass.

Inside the large, vaulted chamber, the younger children were playing with some generous Hogwarts students. There was a group of seven red-haired children, undoubtedly the Weasleys. The oldest child looked like he would be entering Hogwarts soon. He was sitting solemnly on one of the beds, bouncing the baby up and down. Identical toddlers with wide grins were busily pulling the sheets off of all the other beds, followed by an older child with a worried scowl. Neville Longbottom was with Ron Weasley, both clapping as Nymphadora Tonks changed the shapes of her nose and ears. Besides them, there were at least ten others, all different ages, though not old enough to actually attend school. But James only had eyes for one.

Harry squealed when he saw his parents and waddled towards them. James scooped him up and threw him up in the air, making Harry yelp in delight.

"Good to see you, buddy," he said, forcing a grin onto his face. Lily gave Harry a little kiss and then approached two students.

"Cynthia, Meg, they're evacuating everyone below the age of seventeen from the castle. The little ones will need to be taken out as well." As she spoke, Lily started to gently herd the children together. "We have some volunteers coming to help, but I would like for the two of you and maybe a few friends to be in charge of this group once you're out."

All of this was said in what James assumed was Lily's "teacher voice." He smirked and was about to comment when the door opened. James turned, expecting to see Molly. It was not.

Snape strode inside, his Death Eater cloak billowing like bat wings.

James was tired. He had not slept more than three hours or showered in three days. His emotions were stretched so thin that he was surprised he was still functioning as a human being. And yet, he still had enough energy to feel a trickle of disgust at the appearance of the greasy-haired man.

Snape looked just as unhappy to see James. He paused mid-stride, but clenched his jaw and asked, "Is Madame Pomfrey here?"

Lily straightened her spine from where she was bending over Neville. She did not look at Snape, but James could tell every cell and fiber of her was trained on him. As for James… the disgust was rapidly growing into a monster of enmity.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded through his locked jaw.

"Isn't that obvious?" Snape asked smoothly, his upper lip curling. "I'm looking for the matron. But since she clearly is not present, I'll take my leave."

"Hold on," James commanded shortly. "You sold us out."

Snape had turned only a quarter of the way towards the door, but he froze. "I did." His lips almost did not move with the confession. "And yet here I am, looking for Madame Pomfrey to update her on Dumbledore's condition. What are you going to do about it?"

James' chest puffed in indignation. How dare Snape ask a question that he did not know the answer to? He knew what he _wanted_ to do. But killing Snape was not an option right now, not in a room filled with children, with his son.

"You're the reason he hunted us down," James said, not caring if he was being redundant. At least he had not hexed Snape yet. By now, the tension had drawn the eyes of all the young people in the cavernous room.

Snape stared at him impassively. But there was a flicker of emotion on his face. A wince. "Yes," he said in a monotone. "I am the reason."

"How dare you-"

Snape chuckled then. James had never heard him laugh before. It was a horrible, mirthless sound. His eyes stayed empty. "You seem to be laboring under the assumption that I cared about what I was doing at the time.I did not even stop to think about what the prophecy was about. I simply reported it. It was only later that I learned the Dark Lord's interpretation."

"And what? Suddenly decided you wanted to fight on our side?" James bit out, aiming his sarcasm like a scythe.

"No," Snape answered. Now he sounded regretful. His gaze flickered to Lily, but she was still keeping her attention on the children. "I… I didn't really believe anything then."

"So what? Now you do?"

"Maybe I do," Snape said quietly. His empty eyes met James' fully. "But that doesn't matter. Right now, I need to find Pomfrey. Dumbledore is-"

But Snape seemed to have lost interest in their argument quite suddenly. His black eyes were staring over James' shoulder through the hospital wing window.

James turned. Beyond the spears of evergreen trees, a mile-wide inky plume of smoke was rising, underbelly cast in ghastly orange light. It was like the earth just over the hill had cracked open and was retching its pitch-like guts into the air. All the air was sucked from James' lungs and the world crashed around his ears.

Hogsmeade was burning.

Then the windows shuddered with the sound of an explosion. Hogwarts had been breached.

* * *

a/n: So sorry...apparently I can't help myself. Also, action sequences are hard to write. If you have any advice for me, I would appreciate it!

To the Guest who asked me to give you an eta for the next chapter: Of course I can!

In fact, I was going to leave a note on this chapter anyway because (and I apologize from the bottom of my heart) I am going out of town again. For a week :( Which means the next chapter won't be posted until Monday July 31st. Possibly Tuesday Aug 1st. I'm hoping to have time to write while I'm gone, but if that does not happen, I'll need a little extra time to edit the next chapter before I post.

 _But_ as a consolation gift, I will tell you that next chapter is Remus POV (so don't worry, he's not dead, just mia).

Review while I'm gone! Thank you again for your support. I could not do this without you guys :)


	35. We Will Rise (Remus)

I'm home! Yay! The beach cured the writer's block that's been killing me the last few weeks, which has me feeling especially good right now.

Thank you so much to all my reviewers. And shout out to bpbookworm, thank you for helping me with that typo! Much appreciated, it is now fixed :). And to my guest reviewers, J, Sean, Silver stars, and everyone labeled 'Guest', I value all of your comments and words of affirmation very highly.

I know you have been patiently waiting for this chapter, so I'll stop talking now.

-Cat

* * *

Chapter 35

 _We Will Rise (Remus)_

Remus was not dead yet. Which, in his opinion, was very impressive. Not that he had anything to do with it. But someone, or something out there really wanted him alive. He had been reborn too many times to die here.

He had seen it, the moment Sirius collapsed in a seizure of electricity. He was too far, much too far to help, watching in horror over the horde of fighters imprisoning. The following minutes (years) of violent spell-casting were done without his heartbeat. His fingertips felt numb. He barely recognized that he was duelling a gaunt Malfoy, barely even heard his taunts.

His insults were nothing compared to the sight of Sirius being carried on a stretcher into Honeydukes. Hope tortured him as he went on the defensive. Maybe he was alive. He had to be alive.

Remus' rare lapse in concentration was his downfall. As he flew through the air to the fringes of the battle, he had just enough time to be grateful that Malfoy had not chosen the killing curse.

He landed hard on his shoulder, felt the wrench of the ground and heat of friction as he slid in the gritty mud. Then his head connected with something hard and his vision went black and whirled with dancing stars.

He was out for… he was not sure once he woke. His dreams-nightmares-whirled with his father bleeding out, grappling with Voldemort, Greyback slitting his throat.

"Ow," he groaned softly. He rubbed the back of his head, feeling the crusted, flakey blood. Rotating his bruised shoulder, he used the wooden siding he had been unconscious against to push himself to his feet. Pain sparked like fireworks announcing that he was still, blessedly, living.

Absence of sound more present than pain. Panic welled in his throat. One too many bumps on the head, his hearing was gone. Gasping-and hearing the hoarse sound with a flood of relief. He was not deaf…

He was alone.

Remus looked up and down the street and saw…. no one. Bodies. Empty shells. The acrid smell of smoke. The worse odor of spilt blood and sharp fear. Remus swallowed down bile and stared down the path towards Hogwarts. It looked as though a stampede had careened up the road, tearing down trees and trampling grass to a blackened bruise. A scar across the grounds. The battle had reached the castle.

Remus closed his eyes and listened, wondering if there were any living things left. Footsteps, healthy, heavy. Scouting Death Eaters were the most likely. Scuffling. Rats, maybe? Groans. The injured clinging to life. And that was when Remus thought of Sirius lying in Honeydukes. His eyes snapped back open, hyper-alert. The presence of Death Eaters in the town meant they were likely tying up loose ends. His stomach clenched.

He walked swiftly. Sensitive to everything except himself. Every drip of wet eaves into puddles, every wind-rustled leaf. He reached Honeydukes without incident. The windows had been shattered like sheets of hard candy. His steps crunched and there was no sound from behind the counter.

Excruciating hope clenched his heart, cutting off his blood supply.

Sirius was pale as death. Remus waited a full, everlasting second. Then Sirius' chest rose a tiny fraction. Remus let out a breath he was holding.

"You never know when to quit, Padfoot," he whispered. He scanned the battered shop. "What do I do now?"

He could leave Sirius here. But the threat of Death Eaters was too close. So he needed to move him. Move him where?

The castle was certainly under attack, so bringing Sirius there would most likely endanger him further. But those inside the fortress… Remus could not abandon them to finish the battle without his assistance. He could now hear the explosions, so distant they were almost undetectable. Maybe he was actually feeling them, the compression of air particles and dense solids. It would not be long before the castle was breached.

His head was pounding, doing its best to create chaos in his thoughts. He kneaded his fists into his eyes. _Come on, Moony. You don't have time to sit around and do nothing._

Deciding he needed to act soon, Remus levitated the stretcher. Sirius was completely unresponsive. He needed to get to Hogwarts. He did not fancy going up the same road the rest of the fighters took, but all of the passageways he knew of had been barricaded. He checked out the window. A blur of black sharpened into a Death Eater when it passed before the broken aperture of glass. Remus froze.

A second, and then a third Death Eater joined the first. Sirius would be guffawing loudly if could hear the level of swear words romping through Remus' brain.

Soon there was a group of five dark wizards gathered outside the sweet shop. They did not speak, but Remus felt a frazzled energy. They were planning something… waiting for something.

Remus cursed the blinding walls on either side of him. He could not see the rest of Hogsmeade, only the confines of the candy shop. What were they waiting for?

 _Think, Moony. What would you do if you were James?_ The answer came quickly. Evacuate the kids. If they were trying to send the students through the tunnels, they would have to use time they did not have to unblock them. Even if they were, Voldemort anticipated this move. He had turned Hogsmeade into a death trap.

 _Does Hogwarts have any other escape routes?_ The answer to this question would have to remain untouched for now. Remus took one last look at the ambush designed for the Honeyduke's tunnel. Whatever the Death Eaters were planning, Remus did not want to stick around and find out. Quietly as he could, he levitated Sirius towards the back entrance. The storage room was dim, the back windows only allowing heavy gray light to enter. It was getting darker outside.

Remus opened the door gently and checked outside. There was a single Death Eater leaning against a building two blocks down the alley. It was almost comically easy to stun him silently. The Death Eater slumped down the wall without a sound.

"Where to now?" Remus muttered under his breath. He was beginning to feel claustrophobic, trapped in a maze without an exit. Grinding his teeth, he set off eastwards down the alley. The only option he could think of was the Shrieking Shack. Even if it were guarded, it was far enough away from town that maybe he could take down the Death Eaters there undetected.

Resolving himself, Remus spread out his consciousness, hoping to sense any Death Eaters before they saw him. He was shocked by the ease of it. His magic pooled across Hogsmeade like water, minnowing through streets and alleys and over rooftops. Each Death Eater was a spot of dark energy, some more complex than others.

Remus winced as he walked, floating Sirius beside him. He tried not to concentrate too much on each magical signature. They were too layered, too uncertain, too… _human._ And that knowledge weighed heavily.

They were nearing the edge of town and Remus could feel his nerves beginning to fray. The expanse of land between him and the Shrieking Shack was blackened by fiendfyre. The rain had stopped, and instead, ashes fell like gray snowflakes. Veins of embers crisscrossed the ground between him and the Shack. It was too exposed. Anyone with eyes would see him.

Beyond the destruction, he could feel six Death Eaters, lurking around the dilapidated building. How would he get past without alerting anyone? How could he do it and still protect Sirius?

He paused just inside a shadow of a building, feeling the Death Eaters pacing. Their too human impatience. Would he have to kill them? The thought of it made Remus taste bile. He could feel the wolf's indifference. He'd killed before now, what had changed?

 _Quiet,_ he told the wolf.

Then something else nudged at his magic. It was further away, down a different road, one that was seldom traveled. Remus listened.

Tiny brightnesses were filling a different building, one that was dirty, filled with smudges. But there was one signature he recognized. _Flitwick?_

Abruptly, Remus changed course. He wove stealthily against brick walls and wooden siding until he emerged on the less-worn road. Through the falling ashes, Remus saw a sign swinging. A severed hog's head. And inside, the glow of wand-light and moving figures.

His adrenaline spiked. If that was Flitwick, then those figures had to be evacuating students. They had no idea what danger they could be in. Remus moved quickly, his mind jumbling together a haphazard plan. His soft tapping on the door made the low rumble of whispers die instantly.

"Who's there?" whispered the squeaky voice of Professor Flitwick.

"Remus Lupin," Remus responded, equally hushed. "First year, Sirius Black lit your hair on fire accidentally. I returned to the classroom alone to apologize for him."

"Hmph," huffed Flitwick over a cacophony of muffled chuckles. The door creaked open, revealing the shorter wizard, his own students towering over him. But his severe expression softened when he saw Sirius laid out on the stretcher behind Remus. "Come in."

Remus slipped inside and the students squeezed together to make room for the injured man on the stretcher. Ignoring the wary stares he was getting, Remus looked to Flitwick.

"There are Death Eaters guarding the exits of the all the passages. How in Merlin's name did you get here?"

"Room of Requirement," the charms professor responded. Remus followed his pointing finger to an open portrait above the fireplace. His eyebrows rose. Students were walking single-file down a dark corridor of earth and spilling into the cramped bar. Their faces were pale and few of them spoke. The younger ones visibly trembled.

"Listen," Remus said, speaking quickly and leaning over the professor so only the closest students could hear. "They won't all fit in here. We need to sneak them out of town. At this point, the woods are probably the safest bet. Is there any way we can conceal such a huge group?"

Flitwick's brown eyebrows contracted. With a thoughtful frown, he surveyed his students and the traffic jam coming through the bottle-necked entrance.

"Disillusionment?" he muttered to himself. "No...Too many subjects, the charm will be spread too thin. Distract the Death Eaters? Risky. We could… create our own tunnel."

Eyes glittering, he cracked the door again and peeked outside. Then, with a grim set of his mouth he said decidedly, "It will have to do." He turned back to Remus. "You know the concealing charm correct?"

"I-of course, but with this many people?"

"Not on the people, no. On a path that we are going to imagine. From this door to the woods. Hopefully the trees will provide enough cover once we reach them."

"An imaginary path," Remus repeated. His analytical mind grasped onto the idea, running through every possible what-if. "Okay…like a ward then, only instead of spherical, it will be cylindrical?"

"Exactly." Flitwick grinned, pleased that Remus had caught on quickly. "Same spell, different geometry. The ward is a good thought too. Perhaps we can throw some other things in for extra protection."

It would be more complex, but there was still radial symmetry in a cylinder. Remus looked outside, imagining the field of charms spreading out from an imaginary line that stretched between the Hog's Head and the forest. If the situation weren't so dire, Remus would be excited by the mental exercise. But as it was, they had students perilously crowding a bar in a warzone. They needed to get them out before they were discovered or the dilapidated building burst at the seams.

"I'll do the concealing charm, Remus. Would you weave in some defensive spells?"

With a nod, Remus concentrated. He could feel Flitwick's concealment charm tunnel snake away from the bar. Without even drawing his wand, he thought _salvio hexia, protego maxima._ He knew it worked right away.

Flitwick did not comment on the wandless magic, but gave Remus an appraising look. Then he aimed his wand at the ground and a glowing gold line traced itself down the center of their tunnel. "Roger," he said to a Ravenclaw boy wearing a prefect's badge. "You take the lead. Follow the gold line into the woods. No speaking until you're a safe distance in. I'll be guiding the others along behind you."

Roger nodded and stepped inside. Flitwick guided students to fall in behind the student, whispering instructions and reminding them to be quiet. A few of the first and second years blanched when they realized they were hiding in the forest they were told to avoid at all costs. Remus stood by, glancing towards the passage into the castle.

"Go, Remus," Flitwick said knowingly. " Help your friends."

Remus hesitated and looked down at Sirius. Flitwick followed his gaze, humming in sympathy. Sirius was still breathing, but it was shallow and labored. The maze-like design of the lightning wound was harshly visible.

"I won't let him out of my sight," Flitwick promised softly. "He did a brave thing today."

"He did," Remus murmured. He grasped Sirius' cold hand and squeezed gently. It stayed limp. Blinking hard, Remus turned away. "Stay safe, Padfoot."

Then, Remus pushed through the students and into the tunnel, hurrying as fast as he could against the current. Maybe he was imagining things, but he thought he felt the ground tremble around them. A low boom shook dirt from the ceiling. Remus quickened his pace, praying he would make it to the castle in time.

* * *

Hogwarts was fighting back. Remus could feel the surging defensive magic in the walls as soon as he stumbled into the Room of Requirement. An enormous living organism, humming to life when its residents were threatened. The level of magic was impressive. Remus wondered how he could have possibly missed it when he was a student. But back then, the castle was safe and dormant.

He scanned over the remaining students. Their fear was more tangible here, like the sour taste in Remus' mouth. A few were in tears. McGonagall was supervising the exodus, trying to keep her face soft, but her mouth was so thin her lips had disappeared.

"Minerva!" Remus shouted over the crowd.

Her head snapped towards him and her eyes widened. When he reached her, she gripped his arm in a claw-like grasp. "We thought you were dead," she breathed.

"Not yet," he said with a small twitch of his mouth.

She sniffed and her grasp loosened to a comforting pressure. "Thank Merlin," she said. "I don't know what James has planned, but I last saw him he was heading to the hospital wing. The young ones are still there. The castle has been breached, Remus, they'll need help."

"Got it," he said, slipping towards the door. His heart was pounding. The implication was clear: the most innocent souls were trapped in the hospital wing, a horde of Death Eaters standing between them and escape.

"Good luck, Remus," she called after him.

"See you on the other side, Professor," he responded over his shoulder. Then he was pushing into the abandoned seventh floor corridor. Barnabas the Barney gestured urgently towards the lower floor from his tapestry. Remus saluted and dashed down the stairs.

The first sign of battle was the smashing echoing up the stairwell. The second was an explosion of stone at the next corner, which choked the hall with dust and shrapnel. Momentarily blinded, Remus spread out his consciousness into the fray, feeling the cataclysm of energy signatures clashing together.

Voldemort was not difficult to find.

Remus swallowed back the tidal wave of fear and revulsion. The Dark Lord's mind was familiar in a horribly intimate way. Whispers of phantom pain made Remus recoil instantly, but not before he felt the Dark Lord's satisfaction at having been found by the werewolf. Voldemort wanted to finish what he started on Halloween.

The dust cleared and Remus had a physical picture of the entrance hall, much more raw and unfiltered. The battle roiled below, spilling into the hallways and choking the stairs. Instead of red bursts of emotion and pain, Remus could see the blood, smell the tangy metallic odor. Faces contorted in both anger, fear, or even enjoyment flashed in and out of view. He averted his eyes from the slack faces of those on the ground, either dead or unconscious. He would dwell on his own turmoil later.

He saw Malfoy, eyes desperate and mouth set. The Lestrange brothers, twin gleaming slits of satisfaction paired on each face. He saw Dedalus Diggle topple head over heels away from Dolohov. Hagrid roaring in anger and swinging large fists, a pink umbrella sparking dangerously in the left hand. Andromeda's yelp of pain sounded nearby. Frank dashed in the direction of the sound. But Remus was distracted by the mesmerizing head of the snake.

On the opposite side of the hall stood Voldemort, clothed in darkness and watching Remus with a skull-like mask. A brush of remembered cruciatus, the stabbing probe blocked instantly by Remus' mental walls. Then, with a barest hint of a smirk, Voldemort turned in the direction of the hospital wing.

Remus' mouth went dry. Voldemort knew who was trapped there, probably from following tendrils of thought with his powerful legilimency. Harry was in danger.

Remus parted the fighters with a nudging of his mind. A path like a dry ravine through a raging sea appeared before him and he charged after the Dark Lord. He had two followers, and he could sense the dual nature inside of each. Withered men and ravenous beasts, Greyback and Julian sprinted on his heels.

Remus darted forward, springing up the steps and into the passage Voldemort had taken.

 _Expulso!_ Remus thought, aiming his wand at the stone framework of the archway. There was a rending crack of breaking stone and the entire facade slid like and avalanche, blocking his pursuers. It would not stop them indefinitely, but long enough for Remus to confront Voldemort without being hindered.

His mind raced now, on the other side of the cave-in, peering through the dust. Teetering on the edge. A part of Remus-a part deeply ingrained by his seventeen year fight with the wolf-did not want to be the one to deliver the final blow. The other part, a kill instinct he'd been denying all of those seventeen years, urged him forward.

His steps and panting breath echoed eerily in the dim hallway. The torches in their brackets shuddered with low light, as if the passing of the Dark Lord made them cower away. The hall was empty. The lack of people was unnerving, as if Remus had somehow stepped into some alternate dimension.

The illusion was shattered by a series of pops, followed by a hissed, "Avada Kedavra!"

Remus stumbled sideways, but the green light only briefly illuminated the hallway ahead. The sound of a body hitting the floor. Remus slowed, heart in his throat, nerves singing with energy. The hospital wing was just around the corner.

"I know you're there, Lupin," said Voldemort in a soft voice. It slithered like a snake across the stone and into Remus' veins.

"I will admit that I am impressed by your… resilience. Your worthless mind should have snapped long ago."

Remus let the Dark Lord talk, sliding along the wall until his shoulder was just a centimeter from the corner.

"You can come out. I don't want to kill you right away."

This was not reassuring, but Remus stepped away from the wall. _Do what you have to,_ he thought to himself as he faced what awaited him.

Voldemort was standing with a relaxed posture, hospital wing doors blessedly shut behind him. Ava Finch lay at his feet, her eyes wide and unseeing. Only a few meters from where his dark robes met the floor, three auror trainees were stiff as boards, eyes rolling in sockets with terror.

"It will be a shame to kill them. All of that potential-wasted," Voldemort whispered, sounding nearly regretful. He glided over to the nearest, a young boy with curling brown hair. A pale, bare toe brushed his cheek.

"Leave him."

Remus' softly spoken order was magnified by the smooth stones. So was Voldemort's derisive chuckle. The Dark Lord finally looked at him, his skin tight on his face.

"Do you think that you can stop me? You are weak," hissed Voldemort. Despite the venom, Remus recognized a subtle desperation. Voldemort was mortally wounded by the destruction of his anchors to life. Every move he made would have to be calculated according to that. The prophecy damning the child in the hospital wing was the only thing driving the Dark Lord now.

"I'm stronger than I was," Remus replied simply. The wolf inside was bristling, ready for action. He was completely alone in the face of evil, but he was immensely grateful the hospital wing doors remained firmly closed. _Don't do anything stupid, James,_ he thought. He was sure James was behind those doors and knew that danger to his child was imminent. The sun-bright signature burned with adrenaline.

"True." Voldemort's head cocked, reminiscent of a curious child examining a science experiment. "It would be such a waste to break you. You could be great, you know. Embrace your darkness, wolf."

Remus almost laughed. No matter how intense his fear of losing his mind may be, his fear of losing his soul was even greater. "Not in a thousand years, Tom."

Voldemort's stance hardened. "You will lose everything," he hissed.

"So be it."

Before he could prepare himself, Remus' head was being penetrated with hundreds of white hot daggers. The attack was violent, shredding Remus' barriers like cloth. Distantly, he felt the jolt of pain from his knees hitting the floor. Then the corridor was swept away in a dizzying hurricane-

 _Eyes like coals, gaping maw of pale teeth, explosion in his shoulder, blood boiling with the curse…_

 _The Wolf. His first enemy, his darkness, crushing him from existence, ripping away his being… thirsting to kill…_

 _Father. Hands shaking, face blurred above him, chanting, "What have I done?"_

 _Mother. Sobbing, loving, dead…_

 _Brothers…_

 _Sirius was white as Remus screamed at him, throat raw…_

 _James. Bursts of ugly jealousy as he fell in love, held his child. Remus could never have those beautiful, precious, impossible things…_

 _Peter. Hands, shaking and hesitant, pulled him to a pillar and sat him upright. Jolts of electricity, keeping him from escaping into unconsciousness. "I'm sorry." … Peter lying dead in the bloody dawn, his humanity found too late to save Remus…_

 _And always, always the Dark Lord._

" _Such anger, Lupin. But what could anyone expect from a beast?" Cruciatus after cruciatus…_

 _Mind on fire…_

 _The yawning void…_

 _Alone-_

No.

The storm of memory ceased. Remus stood in the calm, only half aware of the surprise in the invading entity.

Something had healed on the banks of this void. Remus could feel Voldemort pushing, trying to find a grip in the cracks to pull him apart. But those cracks… they had let something else in, a light. They were wounds that had become fountains, paradoxically pouring strength into him that flared with solid light.

Remus was more than the cracks.

He grew with the warmth inside, knowledge that his brothers never left him during the hardest fight of his life. And he would never leave them. That light was brighter than any darkness.

With barely an effort, he swept away the Dark Lord's stabbing knives as if they were mere needles.

He opened his eyes and saw Voldemort across the corridor, his crimson eyes shocked. He was clutching his chest and panting for breath. His lips were forming a word, but the only sound that entered the hallway was the skeletal figure's pained gasps.

The gasps became an unnatural wheezing sound. Unnerved, Remus realized the Dark Lord was laughing.

"Do you really think _love_ can defeat me?"

The question was hurled suddenly, like the lash of a whip, the word "love" spat like something disgusting. Voldemort's false amusement vanished, replaced by a snarl that twisted the skull-like features. Despite himself, Remus flinched at the sight.

"Yes," he answered. "I believe it can."

But Voldemort's fury was now beyond conversation. He took a menacing step forward, hunched like a predator. Remus brandished his wand, final spell rising to his lips, ready to dodge any retaliation.

Before either could make another move, several things happened at once.

The door to the hospital wing burst open. Voldemort's head snapped away from Remus to the occupants of the chamber, his body following fluidly. There was a crackle of spells as the Dark Lord engaged with a hidden enemy.

 _James and Lily._

 _Harry!_

Remus darted forward but his path was blocked by something warped, lithe… Julian. Remus reacted quickly, skidding to a stop and feinting left. Julian's fist whistled by Remus' ear. Remus dropped to the ground and stuck out his leg, tripping the wiry werewolf and sending him crashing downwards with a sickening thud.

Scrambling upright, Remus turned his wand on Julian. Then he hesitated. His snarling foe carried no weapon but his fists and claws.

"Petrificus totalus," he muttered after a split-second of consideration. Julian's deformed limbs zipped together.

Remus paid for the timing of his moral dilemma.

 _Wham!_

Stars exploded in Remus vision when his back slammed into the ground away from Julian. He gasped. His chest felt heavy, like his ribs had been kicked inwards. There was a ringing in his ears, overpowering screams wrenched from the hospital wing. _The kids…_ Coughing, he turned his head, vision blocked, eyes meeting the terrified eyes of the frozen, brown-haired boy.

Behind the boy's curls, Voldemort advanced towards three figures. He was still hunched, as if Remus' violent ejection of the Dark Lord from his mind had somehow damaged him. But his duelling skills were still nearly unmatchable by the three opponents. A flash of glasses, a whirl of red, and a billowing sable cloak. Remus could not see the children.

"Hello Lupin."

The growl of Greyback brought him back to the present fight. Struggling to catch his breath, Remus rolled his head on the floor to look up at the werewolf.

To his surprise, Greyback stepped back and allowed Remus to stand. Remus' gaze flicked down the the werewolf's dirty paw, which was clutching a worn wand. This would be a wizard's fight then, nothing like the tussle in the cellar of the Riddle House.

Remus balanced on his toes, nerves stretched to the breaking point, warily watching the larger werewolf circle around.

Greyback lashed out first, a whiplash of blinding light that Remus ducked to avoid. It sizzled overhead and Remus retaliated quickly, sending four stunners that dogged Greyback's lightning fast dance away. Then the larger werewolf pounced forward, forcing Remus to stumble out of reach.

Ava's body tangled with his feet. Tripping-

He caught himself and hit Greyback with a cutting hex that ripped through his leg with a burst of pink mist. Greyback roared with pain and anger.

Shouts behind him, Lily's voice. Swallowing the anguished need to rush to their aid, Remus kept his eyes on Greyback, choosing instead to spread out his magical consciousness. He could feel several tiny bright lights of nascent magic, the children, huddled at the back of the hospital wing. A few students bravely forming a human shield around them. James and Lily, burning brightly, sun and moon. Severus, dim and corroded, but alive and lying crumbled between two beds.

Half of his mind focused on the duel with Greyback, the more feral side attacking and defending. The other half was building a wall around the children, sending soothing tendrils of comfort and safety into their frantic bodies.

Then it happened.

Remus felt rather than saw James' and Lily's wands launch away. Heard the clatter against the stone, James' hoarse shout of pain when he hit the ground.

"Mum! Da!"

Clear-noted and frightened, Harry's little voice was magnified by the vaulted ceiling. Then, his snitch-bright presence zipped around Remus' shields towards James and Lily.

Forgetting Greyback completely, Remus spun towards the battle raging behind him. The air was punched from his lungs a second time. Harry was racing towards his father on little bare feet. James was white-faced, leg unnaturally bent, glaring defiantly at Voldemort. Lily rushing to intercept her son.

"Harry, no!" she shrieked.

" _Avada Kedavra!"_

Everything converged. Lily caught Harry in her arms and skidded into James. The green light sailed across the room straight towards the child.

A scream wrenched from Remus' throat.

"HARRY!"

A strong wind rushed through the hospital wing, Remus at the epicenter. It caught Greyback and hurled him with a resounding crack into a bed. Remus barely noticed the way his life flickered out.

The wind lifted Voldemort's robes like dark liquid, but he was unmoved. As was his curse.

It struck-

Horizons of time, rushing, slowing, vanished.

There was a moment in Remus' mind, when he was breaking himself apart to break apart the walls around the Riddle House. It was a moment of peace, when all time stood still. Where it ceased to exist, as though Remus was somehow… _outside_ of time. All the waves of the world were stilled into that mirrored glass void and there was only peace.

This was similar.

Only instead of peace, there was everything at once. Layers and layers of himself, filling the corners of the hospital wing. There was the chamber that was broken and burning and swept with the wind of his terror. But there was also the one he was familiar with, with the vast ceiling, filled with light.

At once he could hear and see and smell it all. Those lonely first moons, just he and the matron and fear. The aurulent sunset and " _We solemnly swear to be bound as brothers until the end."_ The afterwards, waking to his brothers instead of that aching desolation. Laughter echoing, Della's luminous eyes, the smell of hot chocolate. Drowning. And later opening his eyes into darkness. Mind out of control. Pieces scattered. Arduous healing.

All of the waves all at once.

Now the final one. Remus watched from his timeless vantage point, as the killing curse deflected away from Harry Potter and his parents. Its direction was reversed. Everything else was frozen as Remus followed the green light's progress across the room…

And struck Voldemort in the chest.

The moment the Dark Lord's hollow carapace hit the ground was the moment that time returned. There was an explosion of soundlessness, followed by the heavy exhale of a ceasing storm.

* * *

a/n: !

Obviously, this is not the end. Explanations and some closure to follow in the next chapter (which will be posted on Saturday or Sunday). Stay tuned!

YOU are the reason I keep writing. Even if it's just a single word, I love hearing from you guys!


	36. Before We Fall (Sirius)

You guys are so wonderful and supportive. None of this would be possible without your encouragement. To bpbookworm - Thanks, I fixed it ;)

This is the last official chapter, however, _there will be an epilogue_. So stay tuned :)

\- Cat

* * *

Chapter 36

 _Before We Fall (Sirius)_

The first thing Sirius noticed was the absence of pain. He felt…untouched. Brand new.

The second thing Sirius was aware of was the air.

It smelled sweet, like grass and earthiness and dew. So he breathed it in… somehow. He must have a body then. Again, he inhaled deeper, relishing it. Breath unlabored by weariness.

Sound, little compressions of atmosphere. The sound of breathing. That was a good sound.

Opening his eyes took a long time, but he was not in a hurry. Through dark lashes, he observed the stars above. They were so close, he swore he could touch them. He lifted one hand without any resistance, but he knew at once that it was futile. The stars were just brighter here.

"I tried too."

He was not alone. Sirius turned his head. Blades of grass came into focus. And sitting cross-legged in the grass was… Peter.

His head was tilted back. Moonlight caught his pale eyes and hair, illuminated his profile. He was younger.

"Peter?"

Speaking came easily too.

But seeing Peter did not.

Physical pain did not exist. Inside Sirius was a cauldron of woundedness.

"Hello Sirius," Peter said quietly. He studied the moon, full and bright.

"You left."

And Sirius found that his anger was no longer there to anchor him. Without it he felt adrift.

"Yes."

"I hated you."

"Do you still?"

Sirius did not know the answer to this question. Instead he looked away. They were sitting in a meadow of sweet grass, turned blue in the night. The moon was round, her reflection sparkling in the broad lake. Trees were surrounded them and up on the hill, Sirius could see the silhouette of the castle. Somehow, despite their proximity to Hogwarts, Sirius knew that he and Peter were the only ones for miles. Perhaps the only people at all.

Everything was blanketed in utter peace. Insects and creatures crooned in unhurried voices and the lake lapped gently at the pebbly shore. The stillness was like tasting fresh air for the first time.

Only then did the thought occur to Sirius.

"I'm dead, aren't I?"

"Maybe," Peter shrugged. "I had hoped that you weren't, but…"

"What about Remus and James? Harry and Lily?"

"I don't know."

"So I'm not dead?"

"Maybe," Peter repeated.

"Why are you here, then?" Sirius asked, frustrated.

Peter shrugged again. "I'm glad I am. It's quite beautiful, isn't it?" He spoke wistfully, an artist's observation. There was something both content and melancholy about him. Sirius thought back to Peter's unanswerable question. _Did he still hate him?_

"You betrayed us. You left Remus to die. You condemned Harry."

Peter nodded slightly.

"But then you saved him."

Peter said nothing. He seemed to be waiting for something.

"What happened to you? I don't understand."

"I don't either," Peter finally said. A small, self-deprecating smile twitched onto his face. "I really never have been a quick learner."

"You died before I could say anything to you." _Before I could forgive you._

Peter's pale eyes left the moon at last, focusing onto Sirius as if he knew exactly what Sirius had left unsaid. This was what he was waiting for.

"I don't think I need it anymore, if it makes you feel better," he said, almost kindly. "I'm finally okay with just myself."

Peter's little statement clarified something in Sirius' mind. He was no longer clinging onto the approval of others. Peter was content because he could just be. Or not be. Whatever the dead do.

"I didn't think you deserved it," Sirius explained uselessly.

"After everything I did? Or failed to do?" Peter sighed. An echo of shame deeper than oceans. "One thing I've found since dying… our actions and intentions are not weights to be balanced."

Sirius was not sure exactly what the implications of this were. Not hopelessness. He leaned back onto the soft grass and stared up into the bright constellations. He struggled with himself. Could he let it all go? Was he really considering it? Breathing deeply, he pondered the answer, fancying he could see every galaxy and cloud of cosmic dust above. Would it matter in the grand scheme of things if he couldn't?

"What are we doing?" he asked.

"Just talking, I guess," Peter replied.

But Sirius had nothing else to say. They sat for a long time. Or maybe a few moments. Time was difficult here. Then Sirius realized the sky was growing lighter in the east.

" _Sirius?"_

"I think… I think you're going to be okay," Peter murmured, eyes drawn to the pale gray that was washing away the stars.

" _Sirius? Sirius, wake up."_

Sirius ignored the distant voice.

"What do you mean?"

"It was nice talking to you, Padfoot. Tell Moony and Prongs that I'm sorry."

"Hold on-"

" _Sirius. Padfoot."_

Peter stood then and started walking away. "I hope you find peace. That the world is better for all of you."

"Wait. Wait! Wormtail!"

Peter stepped into the forest and was gone. The sky was getting lighter and lighter, almost blinding. Sirius felt himself grow heavier, impossibly heavy…

"Pads?"

Sensation slammed into him like the Hogwarts Express. Peter and the peaceful night fell away. Pain like fire raced along his neck, all the way down to the sole of his left foot. Nest of warm darkness, brushing on his skin… sheets. A hand on his arm, strong, anchoring. His eyelids would not cooperate.

"Padfoot?"

He groaned.

The person grounding him seemed to find this funny. He laughed, clear and loud and _relieved._ Footsteps, more voices, conversation he could not follow. Sirius wrestled with his mouth, trying to form words.

"Sh't. _Ow._ "

More chuckles. Why wouldn't his eyelids work? He focused his energy, every ounce of effort, until finally a tiny crack appeared.

"Welcome back, Pads."

"Moon'?"

The blurred line of light widened, revealing a fuzzy approximation of the werewolf himself. Shadows and pitches became scars and the halo of gray was hair.

"'M alive?"

"Yes you are, thank Merlin."

That was James. Sirius tried and failed to move his head, but Remus' face was replaced by James. He was grinning like a madman, his hair spiky, his glasses sparkling.

Sirius' eyebrows contracted. "Sure you ain' dead?" he slurred. "We could jus' all b'dead."

"Nope. Still kicking."

"Hmm."

Sirius' eyes were picking up more details. He was in the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey was pushing Remus out of her way, wielding potions and bandages.

"Hello Mr. Black," she said briskly. "Good to see those blue eyes of yours. I'm going to change your bandages, so here's a pain-reducing potion." Despite her severe manner, Sirius caught the dampness in her eyes.

"How long?" he asked James.

"Six days. You really scared us."

 _Six days._ That would take a moment to process. But before Sirius could start, everything else came rushing back. Voldemort's furious gaze, the fire, the battle.

Sirius sat up so fast, his forehead collided with James' nose.

"OW!" they both exclaimed at once. Sirius collapsed back into the pillows, every nerve screaming in protest.

"Really, Black," Madame Pomfrey was saying. She shoved a potion into his hand. "Drink this."

Sirius ignored her.

"Voldemort?" he whispered, his gaze darting between Remus and James. He knew the answer from their expressions before Remus spoke.

"Dead."

Oh, the release was unlike anything Sirius had ever felt. Tension in muscles he did not even know existed drained away. Light-headed and clutching his un-drunk potion, he murmured, "How?"

James was grinning again, but this time it was nearly awed. "Remus," he said.

"Moony?"

Remus was flushed.

"No, not exactly-" he began. "If Sirius hadn't-"

"Exactly." James interrupted. And now his face was completely serious. "What he did on Halloween night, what he endured after-it created something powerful. Powerful enough to stop even a killing curse. That's how I survived Voldemort's curse when the Ministry fell, Padfoot. How Harry survived crossing the wards that killed Peter. I did not understand it until I felt Moony's magic at the Riddle House."

Remus was looking determinedly at his feet as James spoke. Sirius felt a welling admiration, mixed with wonder.

"The battle was… fierce." James expression darkened. "Voldemort made it in here, where the children were, before we could stop him. Remus tried to slow him down, but Greyback showed up and…" James shrugged. "We duelled him, Lily and Snape and I-"

"Snape?" Sirius blurted.

"Yeah," James said, waving a hand as if it weren't important. "I guess he was on our side after all. Anyway, Snape was down and Lily and I were disarmed. And Harry came running from the back of the room… Voldemort aimed the killing curse at him… Merlin, Padfoot, I don't think I've ever been that terrified in my entire life."

James ran a shaking hand through his hair. But he still smiled, a wavering curve of his mouth. "It bounced off. Remus' sacrifice protected him. The killing curse hit Voldemort instead."

"Whoa," Sirius breathed. Remus looked decidedly uncomfortable.

If Sirius had the strength, he would have slapped the humility right out of him. He opened his mouth again, but Remus took advantage of the silence to deflect the attention away.

"The prophecy was fulfilled, in the end," he said. "Just not in the way we expected. Voldemort essentially marked Harry as his equal the moment he chose to pursue him and leave little Neville alone. Harry was also technically the one who destroyed the Dark Lord, but the power he had was not simply magic. It was something much deeper than that, a force far stronger than we could comprehend."

"What was it?" Sirius had to ask. He needed to hear the name, even though, in his heart, he knew the answer.

"Love."

The single word came from a voice that Sirius recognized immediately. All heads turned towards the entrance of the hospital wing. Albus Dumbledore himself was striding through the double doors, albeit slowly, holding himself carefully. But his eyes were sharp azure, twinkling as they surveyed the remaining Marauders.

Behind him came Lily, holding Harry on one hip and smiling like the sun. Harry shrieked in delight when he saw Sirius.

"Pafu!"

He squirmed until Lily set him down, then he dashed down the aisle and launched himself onto Sirius' bed.

"Hey there Prongslet!" Sirius laughed, ignoring any pain as he wrapped an arm around Harry. Harry snuggled down against his uninjured side.

"Mr. Black, your potion," Pomfrey reminded him.

"Right." Sirius still did not drink, staring at Dumbledore with wide eyes. Dumbledore wore long purple robes, embroidered with constellations that reminded Sirius of his strange limbo-world. He was undiminished by his time suffering from Voldemort's curse.

"Harry is surrounded by the mysterious and unstoppable force of love," Dumbledore continued. "All of you rallied against Voldemort around him and sacrificed to keep him safe. Not just Remus' sacrifice, but what the rest of you gave to defeat the Dark Lord and protect your family. Harry's own love drove him to run to his parents, despite the threat of the Dark Lord. Just a child, but more precious than any treasure, be it life or friendship or sanity."

Dumbledore finished, folding his hands into his sleeves and carefully lowering himself onto the nearby bed with Lily's assistance. Lily said softly, "Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends."

The language sounded old, as if Lily was quoting something Sirius did not recognize. But Dumbledore did and nodded thoughtfully.

Then he smiled at Sirius gently. "I believe our beloved matron is patiently waiting for you to drink that, Sirius."

Sirius grimaced, but downed the disgusting potion in a swallow. Harry giggled at his expression. The pain in his side began to numb.

Sirius surveyed Lily, James, and Remus fondly amazed to see them all standing there with him. Only then did he wonder how many were lost.

* * *

Sirius was allowed to leave the hospital wing the next day. He spent some time wandering the castle alone. The students had been given a full two weeks off school and Hogwarts was empty. Sometimes he passed witches and wizards, working steadily to repair the damage done to the ancient building. The semester would be resuming in a week.

Life was, absurdly, continuing.

Sirius enjoyed being alone, for once. James was busy with Dumbledore, taking a role in rebuilding the Ministry of Magic. Lily was working hard to rearrange her curriculum. Remus would be coming to help him apparate home, but not for another hour.

He caught a fleeting glimpse of Snape out on the grounds, but ignored him. The man was unmoored and inconsequential right now, especially after his puzzling conversation with Peter.

" _Our actions and intentions are not weights to be balanced."_

He saw few teachers as he slowly meandered towards the front door. Some just waved. McGonagall gave him a tight embrace and hurried away, wiping at her eyes.

Hagrid downright sobbed.

Once Sirius had extricated himself, he wandered down to the lake. It was a clear mirror, reflecting the pale February sky. His breath misted in front of his face, but he welcomed how alive the cold made him feel. The cursed lightning should have killed him. It was a miracle that he was living, when so many others were not.

In his mind, he counted off the dead. His own, private memorial. The funerals had all been held while he was unconscious.

Ava Finch, Rufus Scrimgeour, Mad-Eye Moody, Emmeline Vance, Elphias Doge. Caradoc Dearborn, Benjy Fenwick, Marlene McKinnon, Fabian and Gideon Prewett. Peter Pettigrew. Regulus Black.

His chest ached. He spent the rest of the hour staring out across the mirrored surface.

This was where Remus found him. He walked almost soundlessly across the damp, pebbled beach. When he stopped next to Sirius, he looked out as well, almost as if he could see exactly what was captivating Sirius' attention.

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

Sirius stared down into the water. His reflection was dark, hiding the new scar that was like a network on his skin. But he knew it was there. The dull throb would not be ignored. It curled up his jaw and down his chest and ribs. The epicenter was a starburst on his collarbone, angry red, though Madame Pomfrey promised it would fade.

As would all painful things, he supposed. Out of the corner of his eye, Remus remained very still. Only his breathing moved his body. Sirius wondered where his mind was. Far-off.

"What about you?" he asked Remus. Quick amber glance.

"I'm okay."

"You've changed."

"We all have."

"True," Sirius conceded. _But you have changed more than the rest of us, Moony._

Sirius ran through it all in his mind, the last few years in the spare seconds. He shivered. He desperately wanted to settle in the warm kitchen of Kent Cottage, a glass of firewhiskey in his hand and the smell of dinner wafting from the stove. The comfort of Lily's child-like conversation with Harry, James' lighthearted teasing. But not yet.

"Can we go somewhere first? Before we go home?"

"Sure. You aren't too tired?"

"Nah."

Sirius told Remus where he wanted to go. Remus did not question him. Instead, he walked silently with him to the Hogwarts gates, then swiftly apparated them away.

Their arrival spun up an eddy of snowflakes. A fine dusting covered the road and the evergreen hedge alongside it. A small gate served as a portal through the dense thicket. Remus took the lead, holding the gate for Sirius and observing him sharply for any signs of weakness.

Sirius rolled his eyes and assured Remus again that he was fine. Together, they wended through the rows of stones. It did not take long. The graveyard outside Peter's home church was small. His mother had chosen the family plot, a little ways from the hedge, huddled under an elm tree. The freshly turned earth was frosted over. Remus stepped back, giving Sirius some space.

Sirius stared at the grave-marker. When Sirius was seven years old, he decided to be good. He failed often. But he always rose up again. He had no idea if the conversation he had with Peter was real or not. But he was convinced of one thing. Real or imagined, it had effected a change in him.

"Peter," he said quietly to the stone. "I forgive you, you bastard."

Remus snorted softly behind him. Sirius turned away, rolling his shoulders and relishing how light he felt.

"Let's go home."

* * *

a/n: I'm right with you guys. I can't believe this story is almost over. I'll be posting the epilogue within the next few days (most likely Monday or Tuesday).

Lily quotes John 15:13

Leave a review if you can :)


	37. Epilogue (Ensemble)

This is it, the final installment of _Before We Fall._

Firstly, a response to the guest reviewers (Nala, Silver stars) thank you for reviewing and C. Misty, thank you for spreading the word!

And now, hundred million thank you's to every single one of you who stuck with me through it all! It has really been an emotional and incredibly cathartic experience.

Especially to those who reviewed, favorited, and followed this story as I was writing it, you are the ones that truly inspired and challenged me to write better. I cannot stress enough how much your words and support meant to me. So here's to you!

\- Cat

* * *

Epilogue

 _With This, We Live Undaunted (Ensemble)_

-All Hallow's Eve, 1982-

The day was like any other. Except that it wasn't.

His students were too quiet. They laughed and conversed softly, took their seats without prompting, did not complain when he could not summon the energy to do a hands on lesson. His lectures were a blur.

He was fine.

He was distracted.

Through the glass windows, the Forbidden Forest was mottled green and ochre and brilliant orange. He could smell the musty decay from here, as well as the sharp smell of the approaching winter. Autumn was at peace with its final breaths, with the weight of summer's death on its shoulders.

Remus envied it. He had gotten better at staying grounded, at keeping all of the pieces of himself on the earth and in the present. But it was harder than usual right now.

He told himself he was fine. He was being ridiculous. Today was like any other.

" _Except that it's not."_

Sirius' words echoed again in his head as he wrapped up the last lecture. Sixth years, Gryffindors and Slytherins. Both houses listened solemnly, respectfully. Almost as if they could hear the mental battle Remus was having with himself. Remus appreciated it.

"That's all for today," his lips recited. "Enjoy your Halloween. Don't overdose on sugar!"

Trite words fell on the class as they packed their things, throwing tiny glances in his direction. He was touched by their concern. But mostly, he just felt naked. Exposed. Still, the professor part of him wondered at the lack of animosity between the two groups in the face of his own debilitating distraction.

Was vulnerability the key to bridging their differences?

He tucked the idea away for later. He was too mentally and emotionally strung out right now.

He could not fall apart today. Not when he was doing so well. He felt fine yesterday, content and happy. Anniversaries were stupidly off-balancing. He should have expected it. It was the same with the day he was bitten for years. But that date had eventually been eclipsed by his friendships.

 _I should have expected this._

He sighed and quickly gathered his things.

 _I should be handling this better._

* * *

Lily's patronus was short and to the point.

"James, I need you right now. It's an emergency."

James hid a grin. His wife was amazing. Perfect lilt to her voice, with just a hint of panic and a dryness that only he would detect. They should have included her in their pranks sooner.

The rest of the departmental liaisons in the room just looked stunned, watching the beautiful silver doe fade away, its plea still bouncing through the boardroom. They blinked away the soporific effect of the update on the Department of Magical Transportation and straightened.

"Um… so sorry Minister, I should probably go," he said, adding a little waver for affect. _Thank Merlin,_ he added silently.

"Very well, James," Edgar Bones said smartly. "As you've already delivered your reports, you may go. Everything okay?"

"Probably. Thank you, Minister," James replied brightly. "Dahlia, can you have the minutes sent to my office to review in the morning?"

The secretary nodded.

The remaining attendees watched James go with betrayed expressions. The weekly meetings with the Minister were one of the most boring necessities James had endured. But rebuilding the Ministry was a slow and arduous process. In the beginning, the meetings had been stimulating discussions of policy and reformation, but lately they had dwindled into boring reports on progress. James prayed that they would soon become obsolete.

He skipped down the hallways to the elevator that would take him to the auror department. One crazy ride later and he was in his office, gathering his things for the day and locking the door behind him.

"Hey, wait! You can't leave early!"

"Sure can," James said. "The Minister himself gave me permission."

"Not fair," pouted Sirius. "I have like… a hundred more meetings. And then a training session with the probies. _And_ I'm on call tonight!"

"That's what you get for being Head Auror. With great power comes great responsibility and all that," James quipped cheekily.

"Damn you."

"Stop by after training," James suggested, taking pity on his friend. "Harry wants to show you his costume. And Moony will be there… hopefully."

"I was going to come anyway," Sirius grumbled. "But yeah, see you then."

James chuckled, but sobered quickly. The hall was empty, except for the brand-new interdepartmental memos: colorful paper airplanes that zoomed along the ceiling and without leaving a trail of feathers.

"Talk to Moony today?"

"Briefly," Sirius sighed. "I stopped by Hogwarts early this morning. He was in denial."

"Okay," James replied morosely. "I'm stopping by later so…" He hoped Remus would accept his invitation to dinner tonight. If anything, he at least needed friends nearby.

* * *

Lily was exhausted. Her stomach seemed to be rejecting her late lunch and expressed its opinion with loud gurgles. Her limbs felt bloated. And on top of it all, Harry was zooming around the house in excitement, asking every five minutes if he could put on his costume. But nothing could quench the buoyant warmth enveloping her heart.

"Dwessed now, mum! Wan' dwessed!"

"Not yet, sweetheart," she replied for the seventh time in the hour. "Not until you've eaten dinner."

Harry pouted and stomped into the backyard where his toy broom was parked by the elm tree. She smiled slightly. He was already blowing off steam like his father: with his feet off the ground and the wind in his hair.

Keeping one eye glued on the little boy in the backyard and a hand absently across her abdomen, she went back to her current research into lycanthropy cures. There was a man-Damocles Belby-whose current experiments were beginning to look promising. And wickedly tricky to brew. She was scanning the most recent prototype's instructions and marveling at the complexity when there was a faint crack outside the front gate.

She quickly covered Damocles' notes with a book on rare potions ingredients and hurried into the foyer. She consciously stopped her hand from reaching for her wand. Old habits were hard to break. But the man walking down the pathway had the familiar shock of spiky hair and carefree stride of her husband.

She relaxed and threw open the door.

"How'd the patronus work?" she asked, leaning against the door frame.

"Like a charm," James responded, kissing her lightly on the lips. "I thought I was going to die of boredom, and our Halloween get-together would have to be my funeral. You are amazing, Lils. I'm yours for the next hour. What do you need?"

"Sleep," she said immediately. "But not right now. I need you to watch Harry for half an hour so I can run to Mungo's. Then I can start on dinner and you can go fetch Remus."

"Sounds good," he replied. He closed the door behind them and unceremoniously tossed his warmer things onto the coat hanger. "Seriously though, thanks. He won't admit he needs company until I drag him over here."

"I know."

Together they re-entered the kitchen. Harry was still zipping around the yard on his broom, his Halloween costume forgotten for now. James meandered over to the table where Lily's workplace was currently located.

"How's the research coming?"

"There's a talented potioner up north who looks promising. I was actually going to write him tomorrow with a few suggestions. He's seems close James."

"Still not telling Moony?" he asked.

She nodded. "I just… don't want to get his hopes up until I have a good reason to."

"Yeah," James sighed.

"Da!"

The back door slammed open and Harry came rushing in. James caught him mid-stride and through him up into the air.

"Hi there kiddo!" he laughed. Harry shrieked with exhilaration as he was thrown into the air a second time. Then he squirmed to get down.

"Da, wan' dwessed!" he announced. James rolled his eyes.

"You are driving your mother crazy," he scolded gently.

"He'll drive you crazy before long," Lily chuckled. The buoyancy grew irrepressible, spreading through her chest. It was impossible to stop the smile splitting her cheeks.

James kept a tight hold on Harry and studied her with narrowed eyes. "You're glowing," he stated. His head tilted slightly to the side.

"Am I?" she asked faintly.

"Yeah. There's something… I dunno… you seem…" He gestured vaguely with his hand, looking nonplussed. "Okay I give up. What's going on?"

The smile was hurting her cheeks now, but she could not stop it. "Well… I was going to plan something more elaborate to tell you, but…" She trailed away, enjoying the way James' jaw was dropping.

"No-you're not-are you?"

"I am," she laughed. Her eyes were actually watering with how hard she was smiling. "We're having another baby."

"Merlin's beard," he breathed. His soft hazel eyes traveled to her stomach with awe. "We're having another baby!" The volume of his voice went up with excitement. With a shout he swept Lily into a huge embrace, Harry smashed between them. James planted an enthusiastic kiss on both of her cheeks.

Harry clapped and giggled.

"He has no idea what's about to happen to him," James snickered softly. He laid his palm gently on her stomach. His eyes were moist. "Merlin. Our baby's in there."

Contentment flooded Lily. Her child-her children-were safe in the world they had fought for. Life was continuing, messy and unplanned and wonderful. When she smiled up at her husband, she said, "I hope the baby has your eyes."

"As long as it isn't stuck with my hair," James groaned.

* * *

Sirius was dead-tired. His philosophy of training new aurors is never ask them to do something that he himself would not do. Therefore, he did most of the courses with them. He cleaned off the sweat as best he could with magic as he tramped back to his office, dogged by at least five colorful memos and humming tunelessly.

He entered his office, holding the door for the memos, then collapsed in his seat. Even though his Head Auror office was bigger than the last, it was no less cluttered. The clutter had simply expanded to fit its new container. Sighing, Sirius opened the memos. The first three informed him of minor incidents in the field that would need his attention the next day. The last two, however, were different. The first was from James:

 _Successfully dragged Moony away from work. Come on over to the cottage when you're done. - Prongs._

Sirius' lips twitched in triumph. He was happy for Remus. The man was finally doing something that he loved and worth his talents. But today, it was also a great way to bury whatever he was feeling.

The second was from Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

 _Black- Snape's evaluation cleared. 7-month probationary period complete, need to re-visit tomorrow morning and come to a decision. - A. Bones._

Sirius exhaled through his nose, surprised by the relief at the message. Severus Snape had been a difficult case following the end of Voldemort's reign. He was known to most of the wizarding world as a Death Eater, and only the Order of the Phoenix knew that his loyalties had changed near the end of the war. It was a month-long process of arguing and court dates. Remus, Lily, and Dumbledore had testified for Snape, James and Sirius choosing to remain neutral. But the Wizengamot was stubborn and the press liked to exaggerate, feeding public opinion. In the end, the compromise was that Snape would be a free citizen of the wizarding community, but had to submit to monthly evaluations.

Frankly, it was humiliating for Snape and awkward for Sirius, who, as Head Auror, had to ensure that the wizard attended the meetings. For a long time, Snape was jobless, until Dumbledore asked him to join the Hogwarts staff as the Potions Master. And somehow, during the meetings and periodic contact, Sirius' dislike had eventually faded.

They were by no means friends. But there was a mutual agreement to be polite. Sirius stared down and the memo, contemplating his relief that the whole process was finally over. Maybe one day, he would actually forgive the greasy git.

With a wave of his wand, a slip of memo paper zoomed towards him from the haphazard pile on his desk. He scrawled a quick response to Amelia Bones with a meeting time, then watched with satisfaction (and a twinge of sadness) as the blue square folded itself into a muggle paper-airplane. The memos were his invention, a private memorial to his brother and his little paper creations.

Once the airplane had rocketed away, he stood and stretched his already aching muscles. One hand subconsciously rubbed the scar on his neck. It felt a little tight, but it no longer twinged constantly. Then he shook himself, the weariness creeping back. As he headed to Kent Cottage, he contemplated how grateful he was that his fatigue was simply a need for sleep, not a need for peace.

He was half-way up the path, when a ball of black fur came barreling out the front door and collided with Sirius' legs.

"Whoa!"

"Pafoot! Lookie! Arf, arf!"

Sirius threw back his head and roared with laughter. Harry scampered circles around him on his hands and knees to impersonate a dog. Sirius transformed into Padfoot, barking delightedly and wagging his tail. Dead leaves scattered around his paws, throwing up hundreds of interesting smells. The cool air felt good in his fur.

"That has got to be the cutest thing I've seen in a long time." James' voice, heavy with hilarity and sarcasm. "If only I had a camera." Padfoot yipped and jumped up on him, licking his face.

"Oh, gross! Come one Pads, cut it out!"

"Pads kiss da! Pads kiss da!" chanted Harry. He stood, leaves stuck in his fur, false ears flopping.

"I don't know, Prongs, that's pretty cute too," said a dry voice. Padfoot's ears twitched and he bounded towards Remus, whose eyes widened in alarm. "Oh no you don't!" he yelped, scrambling backwards into the house and hiding behind Lily. Her emerald eyes sparkled in amusement.

"You hungry, Padfoot?" she asked. "We've finished eating, but there's leftovers."

Padfoot transitioned smoothly to Sirius. "Starved," he panted. "Love the costume, by the way."

"Harry's idea," Lily shrugged. "Personally, I was worried it would inflate your head to bursting."

"Well, as far as I know, my head is intact."

"That's what you think," James snarked. Sirius swung a fist at his head, but James ducked, sniggering.

"How is he?" Sirius whispered to James when Remus went ahead with Harry.

"He's been… going wherever he goes a little more often. You know… spacing out. But he seems okay."

They gathered in the kitchen where a plate of chicken and potatoes was waiting for Sirius. As he scarfed them down, he listened to James grill Remus about his week, Lily occasionally cutting into to ask about his students. Remus spoke softly, but animatedly, clearly happy to discuss mundane things like academics and student behavior. If it weren't for the slump in his shoulders and the lessened frequency in his smiles, Sirius would not have guessed that this day was any different from other days.

Pushing his empty plate away, he waited for a lull in the conversation, then asked boldly, "How are you doing?"

Remus glared at him balefully, walls coming up. "Fine."

"Yeah, yeah, we know what that stands for. Fucked-up, insecure, neurotic, and effing not okay."

"Sirius!" Lily exclaimed, putting her hands over Harry's ears.

"Not funny," Remus said.

"Not trying to be," Sirius retorted.

They stared at each other. Finally, Remus gave in and sighed.

"Okay, so maybe not so fine," he muttered. "I just… I really wanted to be. I thought I could handle it."

"You are," Sirius said, firmly, but allowing some softness into his voice. "But you can't expect to… you aren't perfect, Rem. We all know you're strong, it's just… this isn't…"

"This isn't something you have to handle alone," James cut in. Sirius nodded gratefully. "That's all we wanted you to know."

"Thanks," Remus breathed. He met each of their gazes, eyes amber in the lamplight. They said no more on the subject, but Remus' allowed his tight walls to loosen.

Despite the exhaustion pulling at Sirius, he was happy to trot alongside Harry as Padfoot while they Trick-or-Treated in the nearby muggle neighborhood. He delightedly sniffed at the muggle candies and pranced around the other children. When the dusk turned velvety amethyst, Harry began to yawn and rub his eyes. Sirius transformed behind a few bushes and offered to carry him home.

The four of them walked in a line, Sirius with Harry's head against his shoulder, James and Lily hand-in-hand, and Remus, hands deep in his pocket and mind… elsewhere, again. None of them were quite at peace, but the shelter of their company was enough for now. Sirius wondered if Peter was watching, seeing his last hope realized.

They reached the little cottage under the stars and Sirius passed Harry onto James. Harry wrapped his arms sleepily around his father's neck and burrowed into his chest.

"Thanks, Pads," he whispered.

"What are godfathers for?" Sirius replied.

Harry was taken up to his nursery with the glowing yellow stars. He fell asleep, halfway out of his Padfoot costume. Then the adults went downstairs. Sirius conjured four crystal glasses and pulled some firewhiskey from the shelf. The cinnamon-colored liquid looked warm and inviting after the chilly evening.

"None for me, please, Sirius," Lily said as she settled at the table.

"Sure?" he asked, bottle hovering over her glass.

"Positive. In fact," she continued, a small smile lighting on her face. "Remus, Sirius reminded me earlier that James and I have a question for you."

"Yeah?" Remus asked. He sipped on the firewhiskey, re-focusing on the conversation.

"I'm pregnant. And we want you to be the godfather."

There was a small explosion in Sirius' chest. "What?!"

Remus looked stunned, the firewhiskey halfway down to the table. All of his conflicting emotions seemed to have evaporated, replaced by a growing lightness. "Seriously?" he whispered.

"Never been more confident about a decision in my life," James answered, his expression sincere.

The lightness in Remus was transforming into a smile, big and genuine. "Okay. Of course. Congratulations!"

"I love you all!" Sirius burst out, exhausted mind completely overcome. He held up his glass. "To the Potters, may they be ever fruitful!"

"That's weird, Pads," James teased. But he held out his glass as well. "To good friends. And to the love of my life."

"To family and new beginnings," Lily smiled, clear water swirling in her hand.

"Come on, Rem, you have to toast something," Sirius prompted. "Don't make it sappy like the rest of us."

Remus rolled his eyes, but he took a few moments to think. Then he deliberately lifted his glass. "To rising up again."

 _To rising,_ Sirius repeated in his head, his grip tightening on his cool glass. One year later. November was beginning again. The moon was a sliver of waxing pearl, slipping low in the west.

The glasses met in the center of the table with a chink and a glint of the last light.

Sirius welcomed the burning sensation of the firewhiskey rushing down his throat and the way it mixed and muddled with his emotions. Ecstatic joy for the new life Lily carried. Ache of loss. Anticipation.

He felt whole.

And sometimes their scars still ached. Their minds still hurt. And sleep was distant. But even then, there was some comfort in waiting for the sun to rise. And all was well when daylight came.

 _The End._

* * *

a/n: Before I bid you farewell for the last time, thank you again. Learning to understand the Marauders through this story gave me so many insights and ideas I would have never had otherwise. I'm not going to stop writing, so keep your eyes peeled for more stories (not right away, of course. I need a break and grad school starts up in a couple weeks, so my free time is going to take a dive).

I love hearing from you guys, so any final comments would be wonderful (even if its been like... a hundred years since this story was posted). Tell me all of your thoughts! I will do my best to respond when I can.

Mischief managed.

-Cat

* * *

 _To the one who never stopped looking for me. To the people who healed me. To light in dark places._


End file.
